The Villain Professor's Second Chance

"Just one more question," she muttered to herself, though the weight of it was almost unbearable. Her fingers drummed restlessly against the edge of her desk as she tried to focus. She could feel the stress building, the exhaustion from days of intense study pressing down on her chest.

This wasn't just any exam—it was Draven's exam, and that carried a gravity all its own. His tests were infamous for pushing students beyond their limits, forcing them to confront their weaknesses head-on. Elara had always managed to rise above, but this time… this time felt different.

Pushing her chair back, she stood and stretched, her back stiff from hours spent hunched over her desk. She longed to lay down, to rest her head on her pillow and let her mind drift away from the suffocating pressure. Without thinking, she made her way to her dorm room, each step heavy with fatigue. The hallway was quiet, eerily so, as though the whole university was holding its breath.

Even the magical lights lining the walls seemed dimmer than usual.

As she entered her room, the familiar scent of lavender greeted her. Normally, it would calm her, but today it barely registered. She collapsed onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing. Her body ached from the days of sitting, her muscles stiff and unyielding. Elara wasn't one to indulge in rest, but at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to sink into oblivion.

But there was no time for that. She couldn't afford to give in to exhaustion now. Not with the final question looming over her like a dark cloud. Experience more content on empire

Grudgingly, Elara forced herself to sit up, the weight of the exam pulling her back into reality. She reached for her tablet, her hand trembling slightly as she opened the final question again.

The Convergence of Magic and Emotion.

She stared at the words, her mind struggling to process them. It wasn't the complexity of the magic that frustrated her; Elara was a genius, after all. She had always excelled in spell theory, her mastery of runes and magical structures far surpassing her peers. But this… this was different.

It wasn't just a test of skill—it was a test of emotion, something far less tangible and infinitely more difficult to grasp.

Elara had never been comfortable with emotions. She was logical, methodical, always in control. Feelings were messy, unpredictable, and had no place in the structured world of magic she had built for herself. But Draven, in his cold and calculated way, had designed the perfect challenge to crack that façade.

Her calm exterior was beginning to crumble, her stoic mask slipping as she stared at the question. Doubt began to creep in, a slow, insidious voice whispering that maybe this was beyond her. That maybe she wasn't as capable as everyone said. She had always been praised—hailed as the "Prodigy Child," a genius with unparalleled potential.

Her teachers, her peers, even her family had always looked at her with awe, marveling at how effortlessly she mastered complex magic. She had never struggled, never failed.

Until now.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The thought gnawed at her, deepening the sense of unease that had been growing in the pit of her stomach. Elara hated failure. She had built her entire identity around being perfect, around never showing weakness. But here she was, stuck on a single question, and it felt like the weight of all those expectations was suffocating her.

With a deep breath, Elara sat back at her desk, her eyes narrowing in determination. She wasn't about to let this question defeat her. She had never failed before, and she wouldn't start now. Her pride as a genius was on the line, and she would not let Draven—or anyone else—see her falter.

She picked up her quill and began to inscribe the first few runes of the spell. Her hand, usually so steady, trembled slightly as the ink flowed onto the parchment. The magic didn't come easily, the lines feeling forced and unnatural. Elara bit her lip, her frustration mounting as the spell refused to take shape.

"What am I missing?" she muttered, her voice tight with tension.

For the first time, Elara felt a knot of panic tighten in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to excel, to breeze through the question with the same ease she always had. But no matter how many times she tried, the magic wouldn't flow. It was as if something was blocking her, something she couldn't quite put into words.

In a rare display of emotion, Elara slammed her hands down on the desk, scattering papers everywhere. "Why won't it work?" she shouted, her voice cracking with frustration.

The sound of her own outburst shocked her, the anger in her voice foreign and unsettling. She never lost her temper. She was always calm, always in control. But now, the frustration, the exhaustion, the fear of failure—it all came crashing down on her, and she couldn't keep it bottled up any longer.

"Draven, you son of a bitch!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty room.

For a moment, she froze, shocked at the sound of her own voice. She had never shouted like that before, never allowed herself to lose control. But now… now it felt like the only thing she could do.

She thought of Amberine, her annoying rival who always seemed to get under her skin. Amberine was fiery, emotional, always shouting and letting her temper flare. Elara had always looked down on that, thinking it was a sign of weakness. But now, in this moment, she couldn't help but smile.

"I guess shouting does relieve some of the stress," she muttered to herself, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

But the laughter was short-lived. The frustration remained, gnawing at her as she stared at the incomplete runes on the parchment. She had never felt this out of control before, never been so close to failure. The idea of it terrified her. She had spent her whole life being perfect, being the prodigy. But now, for the first time, she was facing something she didn't know how to handle.

Elara stood abruptly, pacing the room in an attempt to calm herself. Her usually cool and collected persona had crumbled, replaced by someone who was clearly stressed and overwhelmed. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the weight of the exam pressed down on her.

Her thoughts raced, bouncing from one possibility to another, but none of them seemed right. The problem wasn't the spell itself—she could construct the runes perfectly. The problem was the emotion. She didn't know how to channel it, how to infuse the magic with something as intangible and unpredictable as feelings.

Elara stopped pacing, her hands resting on the back of her chair as she stared at the magical tablet in front of her. The question loomed large in her mind, taunting her with its simplicity and complexity all at once.

"I've never failed before," she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "But what if… what if this is the first time?"

The thought sent a chill down her spine. Elara had always prided herself on her control, on her ability to master any challenge. But this… this was something she couldn't logic her way out of. It was asking her to be vulnerable, to access emotions she had spent her entire life burying.

Maybe that was the key.

Maybe the emotion she needed to channel was fear. Fear of failure. Fear of losing control. Fear of not living up to the expectations that had always weighed on her. It was a terrifying thought, one that made her chest tighten, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Elara took a deep breath, her mind quieting as she allowed herself to feel the fear, to let it wash over her without pushing it away. She could do this. She had to do this.

For a moment, she wondered if Amberine had already finished the exam. That thought made her blood boil. There was no way she would let Amberine outdo her.

"Okay, Elara," she whispered to herself, her voice steadying as she sat back down at her desk. "You can do this."

With renewed determination, Elara picked up her quill and began to work, her hands steady as she inscribed the runes once again.