Trapped like an extra in a blatant cliche

"The whispers of the World spoke of glory and ruin, tracing an invisible path that seemed to promise power as immense as the price required to attain it." —Excerpt from Volume 1 of The Reborn Hero

Aurora Vortex's Perspective

Location: Nycthalon Domains, outskirts of the city of Astaroth. Eight hours earlier.

They said constellations hid beautiful meanings, ancient messages decipherable only by those who dedicated their lives to studying them. A shame Aurora had never been interested in such pursuits. Yet on nights like these, she had to admit it seemed worth it. Under a sky so clear and laden with stars that it resembled a luminous sea, that knowledge might have been a treasure to uncover. But delving into the realm of spiritualists was far from her priorities.

She walked in silence, her petite silhouette bathed in the soft light of the twin moons, Proditia and Misrras, casting an ethereal glow on the dirt path beneath her feet. Both moons carried legends—myths so ancient that even those who told them seemed to have forgotten their origins. Aurora, barely an adult herself, doubted the truth of such tales. Yet she couldn't help but glance upward, her eyes, faintly shimmering with traces of mana, taking in the majestic canvas of the heavens.

Her form was wrapped in a thick blue cloak, tailored to shield her from the cold night and the dangers of the road. Beneath it, a dark gray shirt protected her slender frame from chafing, complemented by a sturdy leather breastplate crafted from the hide of a nine-skull Terlith—a material renowned for its durability and resistance to mana. Pauldrons of the same material, gauntlets extending to her elbows, dark, flexible trousers, and matching boots of Terlith completed her outfit.

Her attire was simple but efficient—an armor set that fit her like a glove: lightweight, designed for speed and agility, ideal for someone of her stature. The leather possessed unique properties; it was not only durable but also extraordinarily expensive, even more so when custom-made.

She sighed resignedly, catching her reflection in a murky puddle by the side of the dirt road. Her appearance remained childlike—her small, slender body a mockery of time, as if it had stopped for her alone. How was it possible that in an entire year she hadn't grown even a single inch? She was turning eighteen in a few months, yet her stature and face betrayed a youthfulness that deeply frustrated her. Well, it wasn't worth dwelling on—or she'd only depress herself further.

Her boots halted as she reached the crest of a hill, and with a slight turn of her body, she beheld another breathtaking sight: the city of Astaroth. Vast and imposing, it stretched for hundreds of kilometers, a melting pot of countless races living together in fragile harmony. Wealthy, strategically located, and brimming with promise, it was the perfect place to climb the monetary ladder.

But the allure of Astaroth shouldn't deceive anyone—its nobility remained as classist as ever, clinging to ideologies of human superiority. In a rapidly modernizing world, cities expanded daily, and labor became indispensable. What better way to cut costs than by employing other races for the hard work? A common practice that was quickly gaining traction across this side of the continent.

The city's lights shone brightly, a beacon in the dark night, powered by self-sustaining mana cores. Even from here, thanks to her enhanced senses, Aurora could hear Astaroth's nocturnal hustle and bustle.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. A faint glint tinged her pupils as her mana stirred, and with an almost imperceptible shift, the world grew brighter to her. A massive protective barrier appeared in her view—a translucent dome brimming with luminous runes safeguarding the city's inhabitants. Not far from that imposing barrier, another stood hidden among trees and brush, accessible only by a slender stone path.

This second barrier was more compact, more condensed, and, most strikingly... far more powerful than the one surrounding Astaroth. Its ancient runes and distinctive inscriptions were both familiar and vastly different from the city's. It was almost comical because if you recognized it, you'd spot a peculiar signature etched onto it—a round, winking, smiling face. Aurora resisted the urge to facepalm, as the signature seemed alive, constantly shifting between smug grins and cheeky winks.

"Master, you truly are incorrigible," she murmured with a mix of embarrassment and resignation. A subtle gust of wind prompted her to continue on her way. "Meru, what did you find?" she asked as an old leather hat floated down like a feather onto her head.

"Nothing special, just a Grade 1 with an annoying trait," replied the ancient spirit trapped within the hat. Aurora sighed wearily. "If you say that, then it's bound to be a big one we'll have to deal with. The Master's too lazy to lift a finger unless it evolves into a semi-primordial."

Wearing a deadpan expression, she kept climbing the hill. Not far ahead, an ominous forest began to loom. "Want a lift? At this pace, we'll get there by sunrise," the hat offered cheerfully, earning a dismissive eye roll from her.

"I told you that self-imposed binding chant would come back to haunt you," the old spirit continued, but she ignored him. Remembering that particular awful day only made her angrier.

"It was better than dying," she muttered. But the strong, icy gale swirling around her drowned out her words as, a second later, she was launched into the air at incredible speed. The hat's folds twisted into a grin while she maintained a stoic expression, her ears slightly protesting the wind's roar.

In mere seconds, they soared over the treetops and arrived at their destination. Her landing was as soft as falling onto a bed of feathers, thanks to Meru's magic. But before she could brace herself, she felt it—a powerful Grade 1 lurking in the forest's depths, stalking from the shadows.

The small clearing where they landed was soon shrouded in a chilling mist that made breathing difficult. An unnatural darkness enveloped Aurora and Meru, despite the radiant twin moons overhead. From the trees' trunks, hundreds of glowing red eyes emerged from the gloom, malice emanating from them as they encircled the pair like flickering flames.

The old spirit perched on her head grinned impishly. With a flick of wind mana, the mist dissipated—a move that didn't please their unwelcome guests. In a blink, the creatures were mere inches away from sinking their teeth into her flesh.

They were hundreds of beasts, giant wolf-like shadows with glowing eyes filled with hatred. Yet Aurora wasn't concerned. To her enhanced senses, these Resem were nothing more than pawns.

"Tempest Due Filari," she murmured apathetically. Her prana surged, converging into the element of wind.

What followed was utter chaos. The wind answered her call, unleashing a devastating tempest. Millions of nearly invisible slashes tore through everything in their path, obliterating the creatures in an instant. The resulting shockwave of destruction extended a hundred meters around her. Aurora frowned slightly. Despite holding back, the damage radius was enormous, leaving nothing in its wake.

But there was no time to dwell. In the next 0.001 seconds, she had to react. Raising her arms with incredible speed, she blocked an incoming attack.

In a fleeting moment, a shadow-clad giant moved at near Mach 3 speed, striking her with immense force. Its colossal fist dwarfed her figure, sending her hurtling a full kilometer into the forest. Trees shattered as her body tore through them like paper, and when the sound finally caught up, the destruction was devastating—a path of ruin that would make any environmentalist weep.

Aurora, still mid-flight, used her hands to grab the ground—or rather, embed her arms into the earth to halt her momentum. Even so, she skidded several more meters before stopping. With a flattened expression, she rose from her awkward position. Something had changed about her outfit—her cloak was nowhere to be seen, leaving her in her usual light armor.

With disheveled purple hair and apathetic eyes, she raised her right arm. Her fingers formed the shape of a gun, aiming at her previous location. "Bang," she whispered.

A kilometer away, where the giant had appeared, something incredible happened.

Above the skies, her blue cloak fluttered in the cold night wind, positioned directly above the giant. The garment swiftly transformed, so fast it was imperceptible. Now... a nearly two-meter staff of peculiar wood floated calmly. It glowed momentarily before mana began accumulating, creating a potential difference with positive and negative charges.

From the serene night skies, a light descended upon the shadow giant, exploding outward with such intensity that it illuminated the forest for miles around. The sound seemed absent amidst the brilliance, which shifted from blinding white to a faint pale blue. It was a fleeting burst, lasting only 0.000000007 seconds, but so powerful that, in that brief moment, it completely vaporized the shadow giant that dared to strike her.

The damage? Well... it matched that of her first spell; it spread across dozens of meters and scorched the surrounding earth. When the sound finally arrived, it hit like a hammer, and the following rumble confirmed that the magic unleashed had been a catastrophic lightning bolt in all its glory.

Aurora exhaled indifferently, her apathetic expression so unchanging it could be likened to that of a potato. She scanned the forest with disinterest, waiting for something to happen. "A measly grade 2 can't hurt me, so you'd better stop hiding and come out. Your cheap tricks won't work on me," she said, her eyes glowing with mana as she gazed into the unnatural darkness around her.

"Do you have the strength to break through the city's barriers? Hiding here and gathering troops is pointless when they're so weak. What's your real purpose? Why not consume them and keep evolving? Why turn them into your lackeys?" Her hair danced in the wind as she lazily turned her head from side to side, searching for the hidden enemy in the shadows.

"Is... wa-it-ing for op-oppor-tun-it-ty..." A broken voice, filled with hatred and malicious mana, emerged from the depths of the forest.

Her gaze narrowed. A grade 1 that could already speak was a considerable problem, and the fact that it was so close to the city without attacking showed a reasonable level of intelligence. Opportunity for what? She pondered briefly until it hit her. Her eyes widened slightly. Ah, I see... so it plans to attack Seraphim's year-end festival.

"It's a good plan," she murmured disdainfully, "too bad this is as far as you go."

"Meru, take care of the rest of the pests. I've found it—it wasn't that good at hiding." The ancient spirit, which had stayed by her side despite the ongoing assault, clicked its folds in mock resignation. "Fine, not like I wanted to see the fight or anything," it retorted cheekily before disappearing in a blink. In another instant, her trusty staff landed heavily before her, embedding itself in the ground.

"I guess thanks for buying me some time," she said apathetically, her expression still like that of a squashed potato. With insulting ease for someone her size, she grabbed the nearly two-meter magical tool and swung it as if it weighed nothing.

"Let's finish this," she whispered and moved at a speed of 0.00001 seconds per meter, nearly matching Mach 300. Sound became irrelevant; her staff readied, and when she reappeared 0.07 seconds later, seven kilometers from her previous position, she did not hesitate to act.

The staff, which practically weighed a ton, struck with force against an amorphous creature made of decayed flesh as dark as oil, exuding a foul stench. The blow easily obliterated the upper part of the grade 1 Resem. The leaves of nearby trees flew off from the impact, leaving the treetops bare.

Even so, the blow was not fatal. The Resem seemed to anticipate the result despite being unable to see the attack due to its speed. Absorbing the darkness infused into the surroundings, its body regenerated in a single breath. Its eyes, two lifeless vortices, and its unnerving grin stretched inhumanly wide filled the air with tension. "Fa... fall... in-trap..." growled the creature, as if born from nightmares.

The moment she heard those words, Aurora felt it; the ground beneath her, no, the terrain within a kilometer radius, collapsed. A sea of darkness, akin to a black hole, engulfed her. The Resem, carried away by the same wind, vanished into the manufactured darkness, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"Didn't I tell you your cheap tricks wouldn't work?" she asked in her characteristically indifferent tone. Whatever... I'll finish this quickly. Falling into that bottomless void, its depth and purpose were unknown. But against the encroaching darkness, only the light of a candle could illuminate her path.

"Solaris," her lips uttered. The mana in her body boiled like a furnace at extreme temperatures, and before reaching the depths of the abyss, a burning sphere of plasma consumed everything. A miniature sun incinerated the darkness and the dangers lurking within. Its gravitational pull and radiance lit up the entire forest as if heralding a new dawn. Trees, rocks, earth—everything was swallowed, leaving a perfect crater several kilometers in circumference. It lasted a mere second, a fleeting second, but the destruction was terrifying, an indelible scar on the landscape.

The spell collapsed under its own weight, shrinking until it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Now, in that massive crater reminiscent of a meteor's impact, a pillar of crystal rose to the heavens, a purple construction created in an instant by her hand... Aurora Vortex.

It was a colossal structure that seemed to defy the stars. At the pinnacle of that column, kilometers above the ground, stood a diminutive figure; her childlike silhouette contrasted against the imposing nocturnal landscape. The twin moons glowed like guardians at her back, framing her ethereal presence.

Two icy eyes, cold as glaciers, scrutinized the forest below. They watched with boredom until they found what they sought. "So, your plan was to trap me in that hole with thousands of your minions," she remarked, her voice barely a whisper deciphered only by the nocturnal wind. "Too bad it didn't work. They were too weak."

She raised her hand calmly, pointing toward a distant corner of the forest. She clenched her fist with authority.

"Now die like the annoying cockroach you are," she declared.

Hundreds of kilometers away, an amorphous figure moved desperately at full speed, its body weakened and agonizing. It had narrowly escaped the radius of destruction but was far from safe. Its panic was palpable. For the first time in its brief existence, it regretted following one of its plans. The petite sorceress was overwhelmingly powerful, something it hadn't believed possible in such a compact form.

A buzz. That was the last thing it heard. Two purple crystal swords pierced its body, rapidly expanding. Every cell, every particle of its being was trapped in a crystalline prison, a chrysalis sealing its fate. When Aurora opened her hand, the crystal disintegrated, turning the Resem into beautiful shining particles carried away by the wind.

Thus, on a night like any other, an annoying grade 1 Resem met its end.

Meru soon returned, landing lightly on her head like a weightless feather. "We're done here. Let's grab pizza, a beer, and hit the hay," it said in its usual cheeky tone. She nodded—the idea sounded appealing. Her staff returned to its form as a blue robe, gracefully wrapping around her. The pillar, a creation tied to her Trait, vanished in a spectacle of glittering particles scattered by the forest's breeze.

And before the binding chant could come back to haunt her, a burst of speed announced her departure. She left the place like a simple gust of wind, faster than sound could follow, leaving behind a forest marked by the overwhelming imprint of her power.

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Back on the road, returning to her peculiar rhythm—a tiresome archetype of her days.

Aurora sighed, unable to suppress a twinge of frustration. At least she'd managed to leave the forest before her self-imposed bond could reassert itself. "Back to the good old days of nocturnal hunts. Not that I missed them." Meru, the ancient spirit inhabiting the worn, pointed hat atop her head, shifted lazily, adjusting with a hint of reluctance until finding a comfortable position. "Wake me when that pizza's ready," he muttered sleepily before closing his fold-like mimicry of eyes.

Amused, Aurora shook her head gently as her blue cloak fluttered in the nocturnal breeze. Her faithful companion always had a knack for exaggeration; his mana reserves were still nearly full despite the devastating massacre of Resem in the forest, most of which was the result of Meru's own spells. "Alright, alright, you'll get a whole one to yourself," she murmured in a barely audible tone, a faint smile tugging at her lips. After all, she owed him thanks for the swift journey from the United Countries of the Triumvirate, crossing practically half a continent in mere hours.

The memory brought a faint grimace to her face. Spatial magic wasn't her forte, and the exorbitant costs of official portals in major cities made that option a definite no. Relying on Meru's services wasn't just practical for her budget but also the logical choice. Sure, she could've attempted it herself, but in her current state… well, that would have been a guaranteed disaster in terms of prana consumption.

With a bitter glance at the ground, Aurora resigned herself to an uncomfortable truth: unless her life was in what could be considered critical danger, her spells barely reached a fraction—perhaps a twelfth—of their true potential. The same went for her physical abilities, though the consequences there were even graver. All of it stemmed from her inability to maintain the protection she should.

Meru, feigning sleep, stirred slightly as if sensing the weight of her thoughts. "Your options were limited. You had only two paths and chose the one you thought was right," he declared in his raspy voice, though there was a hint of genuine concern in his tone.

Aurora let out a sigh and gazed at the horizon. The stars shone indifferently against the black mantle of the night, unconcerned with her relevance or crises. "Yeah, yeah, sure," she replied distractedly, a faint smile returning to her lips.

The breeze played with loose strands of her violet hair. Her magical resistance rendered her immune to such mundane temperatures, and though wearing her cloak wasn't a necessity, she preferred keeping it on; leaving home without her trusty alchemical tool felt like inviting disaster.

Her apathetic, ice-cold eyes rose, scanning the illuminated dome silhouetted in the distance—a compact, rune-inscribed structure designed to protect and safeguard against external dangers.

Another sigh escaped her lips. "What a drag," she thought, calculating the distance she still needed to cover. She had left behind the sparsely traveled dirt paths, opting to cut across the brush of empty fields. With some luck, she might arrive before dawn.

Aurora inhaled deeply, letting the crisp night air relax her. She had recently become a creature of the night—a habit born from months of isolation in her new home, devoted to her research. Her steps halted briefly. No, scratch that… comparing herself to those blood-sucking beasts didn't feel amusing. She shook her head vigorously, suppressing a shiver; the last time she faced one, its blood magic had made for a particularly unpleasant experience.

The prana imbued in her pupils flickered briefly, and her senses ignited with a reaction time far shorter than that. The breeze once again stirred her cloak, but this time, something about it felt… different.

"There's my favorite little old lady," an exuberant, cheerful voice called out from behind her. Slowly, she turned her body with deliberate laziness, and there she saw her mentor—an unmistakable figure. She lowered her head slightly in a gesture of greeting. "It's good to see you in good health."

As her mentor closed the distance between them, Aurora took a moment to observe her. As always, she stood out regardless of the circumstances. Dressed in a loose white blouse with rolled-up sleeves—which, to Aurora's mild irritation, prominently accentuated her massive chest—and wide dark-gray trousers tapered at the ankles, she also sported rectangular earrings engraved with heat and release runes.

Complementing all of this were her leather boots and a wide belt that seemed to absorb every trace of light, adorned with metallic accents that failed to deceive her; her eyes saw through the illusion. That belt was a magical tool, her mentor's favorite and the most powerful in her arsenal... a World-class weapon, two tiers above her own trusty Legendary-class staff.

"So... what's my favorite apprentice doing in these empty fields?" Carmele, also known as the Sun Mage, rested her hand on her chin with curiosity. Tilting her head slightly, her amber eyes observed her with intrigue.

Aurora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm your only apprentice, Master," she replied calmly before turning away. "And you should take your job more seriously; you hold a very important position." She muttered the words under her breath, but she was sure they were heard.

"Ohhh, you mean that harmless little friend hiding in the woods? Bah, it was too weak for me to bother visiting." Her mentor, with a single step, was suddenly walking beside her, effortlessly matching her pace—well, not that it was particularly difficult. "And what's with this rebellious attitude? Show more respect to your master!" Carmele darted behind her in the blink of an eye, grabbed her shoulders, and began shaking her vigorously, like one might shake out a piece of clothing.

"Respect your elder—no, scratch that. That makes me sound old." The shaking continued, but Aurora pressed her lips together, trying to maintain her composure while her mentor persisted in her peculiar antics. "I know!" The Sun Mage paused her assault, enthusiastically clapping her hands together, an idea already forming in her head. "Want me to carry you on my back, like when you were a tiny tot? No, scratch that too, you're still quite short—like when you were a little kid?"

In another blink, her mentor was crouching in front of her. "Alright, hop on. We'll be in my office in the blink of an eye. Otherwise, we'll keep walking until the undead decide to rise again." This time Aurora did roll her eyes and brushed past her mentor, who resumed walking beside her, entirely unbothered. "What? You didn't get my joke? You know... undead, eternal rest, impossible to rise, and all that." Carmele tried to explain to her "uncultured" apprentice, who was too embarrassed by her mentor's antics to reply.

"Tough crowd; that one usually works on men," Carmele said with a grin. Aurora glanced at her sideways. Yes, why did it work so well on them? She shook her head—no, that was dangerous territory to explore.

Choosing to ignore such remarks, she focused on what mattered. "Master, there was a rather dangerous Grade 1 creature in that forest. It had thousands of Grade 3 Resem under its control and a few Grade 2 ones as well. Any conventional sorcerer would have died there if they had been sent without sufficient information.

"Ehhh? What's this, my little chick is trying to show off her power?" Her mentor gave her a thumbs-up with a grin from ear to ear. "Great, just as I taught you, you make me proud." She sighed impassively, her purple hair fluttering in the wind.

"Aurora Vortex, the Harlequin of 100 Faces: Semi-special grade Sorceress. It's said you won't find a better lightning mage than her." Following those words, her steps came to an abrupt halt, her face turning as red as a tomato, and Carmele, raising her fist in victory, added, "There it is! See? It wasn't so hard to get rid of that squashed-potato face you've been wearing lately."

Aurora pulled her hat—or rather, Meru—down to cover her eyes. The spirit complied, closing itself like blinds. "Please, don't ever say that again. It's embarrassing; I don't even know why they gave me that nickname." The Sun Mage grinned cheekily. "It's not that bad. At least you're not named after that old guy in blue." She raised her hands and made air quotes. "'Herald of the Arcane,'" she said, then muttered a hidden curse. "In my opinion, he's just a senile old bastard who does nothing."

Aurora tuned out her mentor's hypocrisy or her rant about the strongest mage of the era. Staying out of it was the best course of action. Nor would she mention that the "old bastard" was none other than her mentor's own teacher.

"I know!" Carmele clapped her hands again. "I almost forgot—I bought something for this very occasion." With an enthusiastic flourish, she tore a rift in the air, ripping the fabric of reality as if it were paper. From the opening emerged a carriage—or at least, that's what Aurora thought at first. As the rift closed behind it, she realized it was one of those modern contraptions heavily advertised everywhere lately, though this one looked obscenely expensive.

She wasn't surprised by her mentor's mastery of Spatio-Temporal magic but rather by how freely she spent her fortune. "If I remember correctly, it's called an automobile... or was it automatic carriage? Modern carriage? Miniature train?" Carmele rubbed her forehead, trying to recall the name. "Well, it doesn't matter," she finally said, smiling.

"Was the gold finish necessary?" Aurora asked, overwhelmed by the vehicle's extravagant shine. The Sun Mage nodded emphatically. "Absolutely necessary!" she declared without hesitation. "Now hop in and let me figure out how to drive this thing."

Pushed forward, Aurora was ushered into the horseless carriage and forced into a surprisingly comfortable upholstered seat. Only then did she notice the interior was designed for two people. Carmele had already taken her place in the driver's seat, sitting before a sleek, polished wheel adorned with fine silver details.

"This thing runs on refined mana cores, so it shouldn't be too hard." Her words didn't inspire confidence; in fact, Aurora's growing sense of foreboding worsened. As soon as her mentor turned a small crank beside the wheel, the vehicle roared to life. A faint light glowed above them, powered by a mana core no bigger than a fingernail, and a guttural sound, like a chorus of beasts growling in unison, resonated within. The vehicle began to vibrate slightly.

"Well, isn't this a curious invention," Carmele remarked, a mix of fascination and nonchalance in her voice. "Now... let's get moving." Aurora swallowed hard, resisting the urge to jump out before it was too late. Instead, she took the opportunity to address the question that had plagued her since receiving her mentor's letter. "Master, why did you summon me?"

She wouldn't bring up using Meru as a mere courier or how the letter had flooded her workshop with countless copies. Her mentor seemed too thrilled, like a child with a new toy, and Aurora didn't want to spoil the mood—or rather, give her fuel for a tantrum.

Carmele's enthusiastic smile didn't falter. "I want you to become a professor at the Academy," she declared, raising a hand to stop Aurora's protest before it could start. "Before you say no, just teach one class, and you'll see. I'll also be teaching a class this year, so it's not like you'll be alone."

Aurora pondered this. Her mentor was rarely insistent on anything, but this time she seemed unwilling to take no for an answer. Still, her as a professor? The idea felt foreign, almost ridiculous. Her thoughts were interrupted as the vehicle began to move, slowly but steadily—not exactly fast, maybe half the speed of a galloping horse.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked reluctantly, preparing to abandon ship if necessary. "Of course... I'm in my element here, so don't worry."

She should have worried. One minute later, her eyebrows shot up. "Hey, don't look at me like that. In my defense, that ditch came out of nowhere." Carmele scratched her cheek, surveying the damage. Yes, the vehicle's front wheels were utterly unsalvageable.

"Whatever, it's useless now, so I'll just buy another one." Too many words flooded Aurora's mind to counter such a statement, but she knew any attempt would be futile. Her mentor would turn a deaf ear, as always. Thus, as a magic circle formed beneath their feet, both disappeared from the scene, teleported directly to the Vice Principal's office at Seraphim Academy.

A tic twitched in her left eye. Her mentor could have done this from the start instead of making her endure such a unique driving lesson.

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Runes of an icy blue began to carve themselves with precision into the stone-tiled floor. As though guided by an invisible hand, they expanded at an incredible speed, sketching intricate lines that soon converged into a perfect circle, glowing softly and forming a personal teleportation portal.

"Normally, the barrier wouldn't allow anyone to use this transportation method," announced a soft, cheerful voice from the center of the circle, "but since I'm the one who erected it, I can make certain exceptions." The voice preceded the arrival of two figures, who materialized in a blinding flash of light.

Aurora suppressed the nervous twitch in her eye with a few rapid blinks and observed their new location with curiosity. They had arrived in a circular office constructed entirely of mana-refined stone—a costly material, but one this place seemed to afford in abundance. Not falling for the illusion cloaking the room, her eyes briefly flashed with prana, and the magic enveloping the space partially dissolved under her gaze.

Four robust stone pillars stood like sentinels, supporting the structure of the room. The perfectly circular walls were lined with polished wooden shelves in harmonious arrangement, each holding worn grimoires, spellbooks, sealed scrolls marked with red wax, and labeled jars whose colorful contents glimmered as though containing liquid energy. Among them, a small orb of dark crystal hovered serenely atop a pedestal of rose gold, emitting a faint glow that pulsed like a heartbeat.

At the center of the room lay an opulent rug and an imposing desk of dark wood, intricately carved with barely visible arcane inscriptions under its varnish. Three exquisitely comfortable chairs faced one another: the sub-director's and those for her guests. Banners bearing the academy's emblem hung freely from the pillars.

Aurora sighed. The space felt excessively grand. With a simple thought, she cut off the mana flow to her eyes, and the illusion reassembled itself. The pillars transformed into towering trees whose interwoven branches formed natural arches reaching the ceiling. The leaves, vibrant pink petals, drifted down in a slow, elegant waltz, only to vanish just before touching the ground. A breeze, previously nonexistent, began circulating, carrying a delicate floral scent.

The shelves were no longer polished wood but living roots sprouting from the trees themselves, cradling books and scrolls. The floor became a lush, emerald-green lawn, soft and meticulously maintained, while the ceiling appeared as a canopy of branches and petals, creating a vaulted effect as though they supported the structure. Here and there, light particles resembling fireflies floated peacefully, casting a unique glow over the scene.

For her first time here, Aurora marveled at the flawless illusion, which transformed this room into a perfect tea salon fit for a queen. Pity her mentor didn't see it the same way. Suddenly, the drifting petals turned into tacky multicolored confetti. "Congratulations on passing my test! You've become a real tough cookie!" Carmele hugged her and rubbed their cheeks together, but Aurora wasn't buying any of it.

"Master, what a blatant lie," she deadpanned, her expression flat as she exposed the truth effortlessly. Her tone was dry, and her eyes looked at her mentor with a mix of skepticism and resignation. "It's not a lie if you think about it," Carmele retorted.

"Thinking about it after the fact is still just as bad," Aurora countered without hesitation, and for a moment, they stared at each other in silence until her mentor snorted and looked amused.

"What, was it too much?" the Sun Mage asked. Aurora nodded, and with a snap of her mentor's fingers, the tacky confetti vanished. "Fine, I'll admit defeat here. I know when to retreat with dignity."

"By the way, have I mentioned you smell like something burnt?" Carmele added with a barely concealed smirk. "What, did you cast a fire spell point-blank?" Aurora shook her head. "I cast a Solaris, Master." At that, her mentor's eyes widened slightly. "You've mastered it already? That was fast," the Red Tricolor's representative noted with genuine pride.

"Wait, wait, you cast it in the forest?" Carmele's gaze bore into her disciple, hoping for an answer that contradicted her thoughts, but the slight shift in Aurora's eyes said it all. "Damn... I did teach you well—you're a pyromaniac in the making. Makes me proud!" Her mentor laughed, covering her mouth before shedding a few tears and giving her a thumbs-up.

Aurora's twitch returned, but the embarrassment that had been about to surface quickly dissipated. "I'll volunteer to escort the city's spiritualists. Please contact them to repair the damage caused," she said, bowing slightly in apology.

Carmele waved dismissively. "Bah, don't bother. I'll send a letter to the adventurer's guild to post a mission for it. You've done enough for one night, and I have to be responsible. After all, my desperate disciple is asking for my help, and as her amazing mentor, I'll fix all her messes," she said with a mischievous smile.

Hearing her mentor's spiel, Aurora pressed her lips into a thin line, suppressing the urge to grimace. Why… why had she agreed to this summons? Clearly, she hadn't thought it through, and it had quickly come back to bite her.

"Anyway…" her mentor shifted, settling into her chair with a sudden gravity that transformed the room's atmosphere. "I know you have many questions swimming in that little head of yours, but I can't answer them," Carmele said. For the first time since their reunion, her carefree demeanor faded. Her amber eyes sharpened. "Things are changing—fast, in fact."

"Just yesterday, my Arcana… showed me a fragment of the future," her mentor's hands clasped tightly, "and it wasn't a pleasant vision." Aurora mirrored her mentor's seriousness, seating herself across from her and staring at the dark oak desk. Even Meru paid close attention to the conversation. "I'm afraid, my dear child, that you have a significant role to play in all of this," Carmele continued, her amber irises igniting like fire. "What kind, I don't know, but I'm certain part of it is here. So, all I can do is wager and hope I'm right."

The Sun Mage sighed, leaning back in her chair, weary under the weight of her responsibilities. She brushed aside a strand of her fiery red hair, which glimmered under the soft light of the magical fireflies. She looked at her disciple—her adopted daughter—and lacked the heart to tell her that part of the fragment involved her own death, a fate she desperately hoped to avert.

Aurora felt a chill run down her spine. For the first time in a long while, she saw in her mentor something beyond an extravagant figure. She saw a woman burdened by invisible weight.

Noticing her disciple's contemplative expression, Carmele smiled. "Hey, do you remember those old stories about the ancient heroes?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Aurora nodded, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"I think it's time for them to rise again—to stand and fight once more."