The Mission Assignment
"This is an observation mission only," Master Varrick emphasized, his stern gaze moving between Marcus and Lia. "You explore, you document, and you get out if things look sketchy. Got it?"
The mission briefing room was a small, windowless chamber in the Academy's administrative wing. Maps of Emberfall City and the surrounding territories plastered the walls, while a detailed floor plan of their target—the Abandoned Archives beneath the Old Quarter—lay spread across the central table.
"Yeah, yeah. Scout and report, don't touch anything weird," Lia said, drumming her fingers impatiently on the table. "We've done this before."
Marcus studied the map with a growing sense of anticipation that had nothing to do with the mission itself. Lately, he'd found himself staring out windows during class, wondering what lay beyond Emberfall's borders. The Academy, once a fascinating world of possibilities, had begun to feel... predictable. Confining.
"Something on your mind, Phoenix?" Master Varrick asked, noting his distraction.
"Just thinking about the structural integrity of these old passages," Marcus lied smoothly. "The recent tremors might have compromised more than just the access points."
Varrick didn't look entirely convinced but continued with the briefing. "The Archives have been sealed for nearly a century. Recent earthquakes in the Old Quarter have cracked some of the outer chambers, and the City Council is worried about magical containment failures."
"So why send us instead of an adult team?" Marcus asked, the question that had been nagging him since they received the assignment. "No offense, but this seems above our pay grade."
"Two reasons," Varrick explained, tapping the map where several small fissures had been marked. "First, your sensory abilities make you ideal for detecting subtle magical anomalies. Second..."
"We're small enough to fit through the cracks!" Lia finished, grinning widely. "The grown-ups are too big to squeeze through!"
"Precisely," Varrick confirmed, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "The primary entrance remains sealed with protections that would take weeks to safely dismantle. But these new fissures provide access for... appropriately sized operatives."
[Status Update][Name: Marcus (aka "Phoenix")][Age: 10 years, 6 months][Level: 43][HP: 315/315][MP: 590/590][Strength: 69][Dexterity: 85][Constitution: 66][Intelligence: 104][Wisdom: 89][Charisma: 54][Selected Skills:]- [Aura Projection: Level 29]- [Aura Control: Level 32]- [Counter-Magic: Level 27]- [Aura Weaponry: Level 26]- [Magical Theory: Level 23]- [Magical Insight: Level 21]- [Combat Movement: Level 20]- [Amplified Disruption: Level 18] (Cooperative)- [Aura Harmonization: Level 19] (Cooperative)- [Strategic Analysis: Level 16]
Three months had passed since their assessment and official acceptance into the Field Training Initiative. They'd completed six minor assignments—mostly boring stuff like monitoring magical hotspots or helping with small elemental disturbances. All successful, often with Lysander's grudging but effective help.
This mission would be different. No Lysander (who was off at some fancy family gathering at his grandfather's estate), and they'd be entering parts of Emberfall's underground that hadn't been explored in generations.
Perfect, Marcus thought. Maybe something actually interesting for a change.
"What exactly was this place used for?" he asked, noticing several areas on the map marked with warning symbols.
"The Archives were established during the Third Dynasty for storing magical artifacts and texts deemed too sensitive for general access," Varrick explained. "When the Academy was reformed, most materials were transferred to our secure vaults. Some items were too dangerous to move and were sealed in place."
"And now those seals might be failing," Marcus concluded, understanding the real concern.
"We don't know," Varrick admitted. "The monitoring wards are dead, which is why we need eyes on the ground. Your job is simple: get in through here," he jabbed a finger at a marked location, "check the main chamber, verify the containment seals, and get out. Three hours, tops."
[New Quest Alert!][Title: Depths of the Archives][Description: Investigate the containment seals in the Abandoned Archives][Reward: 8000 XP, Increased field qualification rating][Failure: Potential hazardous magical exposure, disciplinary review][Time Limit: 3 hours from entry]
"Standard gear," Varrick continued, pointing to two small packs. "Emergency rations, med supplies, light crystals, and comm amulets. The amulets are linked to my frequency—if you hit trouble, activate them and get out."
"Will you be nearby?" Lia asked while rummaging through her pack, already adding extra snacks from her pockets.
"I'll be monitoring from a post near the entrance," Varrick confirmed. "I can't fit inside, but I'll maintain magical surveillance. The old stone messes with remote sensing, so there'll be blind spots deeper down."
Marcus nodded, mentally cataloging potential risks and exit strategies. Despite the official "observation mission" designation, something in Varrick's manner suggested he was more worried than he was letting on.
"What aren't you telling us?" Marcus asked bluntly.
Varrick hesitated, then sighed. "There have been... disturbances in the magical ambient around the Old Quarter. Nothing concrete, just unusual energy signatures."
"What kind of signatures?" Marcus pressed.
"Necrotic resonance," Varrick admitted reluctantly. "Very faint, possibly residual from old artifacts. But it's one reason we're sending a counter-specialist." He fixed Marcus with a meaningful look. "If you detect any active necrotic patterns, you get out. Immediately. No exceptions."
[System Message: Necrotic energy? Abandoned magic vaults? Mysterious disturbances? This totally sounds like a "send in the children" situation. What could possibly go wrong?]
The Descent
The access point was located in the basement of an abandoned apothecary in the Old Quarter—a crumbling stone building that looked like it hadn't seen visitors in decades. City guards kept curious locals away while Academy staff set up a small command post in what used to be the shop's front room.
"Remember your training," Master Varrick said as they prepared. "Stay in contact, report anything unusual, and don't touch sealed artifacts."
"Got it," Marcus assured him, adjusting the light crystal on his collar.
"Totally got it," Lia echoed, bouncing on her toes with barely contained excitement. "No touching the scary magic stuff."
The entrance fissure was barely two feet wide—a jagged crack in the basement floor that sloped downward into darkness. A cool draft wafted up, carrying the scent of ancient stone and something metallic and... off.
"I'll go first," Marcus decided, activating his light crystal. The soft crimson glow revealed rough stone walls and debris-littered floors below.
"I'm right behind you," Lia said, her eyes glowing faintly green as she enhanced her perception. "No weird energies yet. Just old musty magic."
They carefully lowered themselves into the fissure. The passage was tight but manageable, descending steadily beneath the building's foundations.
"This would be way faster if I could just enhance and jump down," Lia whispered, grunting as she squeezed past a narrow section.
"And maybe bring the whole place down on our heads," Marcus reminded her. "Careful movement, remember?"
"Yes, sir, Captain Boring," she grumbled, but kept her movements measured.
After twenty minutes of slow progress, the narrow crack opened into a larger space—a corridor of worked stone matching the architectural style from their maps. Ancient sconces lined the walls, and the cracked marble floor bore faded arcane inscriptions.
"We've hit the Archives proper," Marcus reported through his communication amulet. "Structure looks mostly intact."
"Moving toward the main chamber," Lia added, already striding ahead. "No signs of recent visitors. Unless you count rats. Lots of rats."
"Acknowledged," Varrick's voice replied, slightly distorted. "Keep your heads on a swivel."
The corridors formed a complex maze that would have been disorienting without their maps. Even prepared, the place was unsettling. Shadows lingered despite their lights, and occasional drafts created sounds almost like whispers.
"This place is mega-creepy," Lia observed, keeping her voice low. "Like something's watching us."
"Old containment sites often develop a kind of ambient awareness," Marcus explained, though he felt the same unease. "Magic leaks from artifacts and becomes semi-sentient."
"So the building is haunted because of magic ghosts?" Lia translated.
"More or less," Marcus admitted. "Though the Academy would hate that description."
As they ventured deeper, Marcus found his mind wandering again to the world beyond Emberfall. How many other ancient sites like this existed across the continent? What would it be like to explore them without Academy oversight, as a freelance adventurer or mercenary?
He was getting so tired of the endless lessons, the rigid structure, the same halls day after day. Out here, even in this creepy underground labyrinth, he felt more alive than he had in months of Academy training.
"You've got that look again," Lia noted, interrupting his thoughts.
"What look?"
"The 'I'm planning something probably dangerous' look," she said, studying his face. "Same one you had before we tried that crazy enhanced aura bomb that scorched Master Linnea's eyebrows off."
Marcus shrugged. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"About what's next," he admitted. "After the Academy. There's a whole world out there, Lia. Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to just... go see it?"
"You mean like, what? Run away and become wandering heroes?" she asked, eyes widening. "That would be awesome! Though we'd probably need to wait till we're at least, I don't know, twelve."
Marcus smiled despite himself. "Maybe. Let's get through this mission first."
"Speaking of which," Lia pointed ahead where the corridor opened into a much larger space. "I think that's our target."
The main chamber was enormous—far larger than their maps had indicated, suggesting magical expansion enchantments. Circular in design, its domed ceiling soared at least thirty feet overhead, supported by ornate columns covered in protective runes. The walls were lined with sealed vaults, their heavy doors marked with warning symbols and arcane locks.
But the centerpiece was the containment pedestal—a massive structure of obsidian-like stone rising from the chamber's center. Concentric rings of arcane circles surrounded it, each glowing with faint blue light.
"Good news," Marcus observed, approaching the outer edge of the circles. "The seals are still active."
Lia enhanced her vision, the green glow in her eyes intensifying. "There's something weird about the energy, though. See how it's pulsing? It's not flowing right."
Marcus extended his magical insight, analyzing the containment patterns. She was right—the energy wasn't flowing smoothly. Instead, it surged and receded in an irregular rhythm, like a heartbeat growing stronger.
"We should report this and bail," he decided, reaching for his communication amulet. "This looks like it could go sideways any minute."
"Wait," Lia said suddenly, grabbing his arm. "Something's moving behind one of the vault doors. Something's... awake in there."
Before Marcus could respond, a deep, resonant hum filled the chamber. The blue glow of the containment circles flickered, then shifted to an ominous purple. The temperature plummeted, their breath suddenly visible in the frigid air.
"Phoenix to Control," Marcus spoke urgently into his amulet. "We've got active containment degradation and something waking up. What's our play?"
Only static answered. The thick stone and growing magical interference had cut them off.
"Time to leave," Marcus said, backing toward the corridor. "Right now."
"No argument here," Lia agreed, moving to join him.
They'd only taken a few steps when a sound like cracking glass echoed through the chamber. One of the vault doors—larger and more heavily warded than the others—was fracturing, hairline cracks spreading across its surface as something pushed from within.
[System Message: Remember that nice simple observation job? This seems like a great time to remember that job description.]
"Run," Marcus urged, grabbing Lia's arm. "Back to the entrance!"
They sprinted for the corridor, but before they could reach it, the vault door shattered. A wave of necrotic energy flooded the chamber, so potent that even Lia could see it without enhancement—a miasma of sickly green and black that writhed like living smoke.
From the broken vault emerged a figure that made Marcus's blood freeze. Tall and skeletal, draped in tattered robes that might once have been magnificent, the entity moved with unnatural grace. Where a face should be, there was only a skull with pinpoints of malevolent crimson light glowing in its eye sockets. Its bony hands clutched an ornate staff topped with a crystal that pulsed with the same necrotic energy that surrounded it.
"Oh crap," Marcus breathed. "That's a lich."
[Warning: High-Level Undead Entity Detected][Entity Type: Lich (Undead Archmage)][Threat Level: Extreme][Recommended Action: Immediate Retreat]
"What's a lich?" Lia asked, dropping into a fighting stance, her aura flaring protectively around her.
"Remember those horror stories about undead mages that can't be killed?" Marcus whispered. "That's the real deal. We need to run. Now."
But retreat was no longer an option. The lich raised its staff, and necrotic energy surged to block the corridor. Its skull turned toward them, those burning eyes fixing them with a gaze that seemed to drill into their souls.
"Intruders," it spoke, its voice like dry leaves rustling. "After all these years... how fortunate for me."
Marcus's mind raced through options. Fighting a lich head-on was suicide—they were legendary opponents that had defeated entire teams of master mages. But maybe they could create a distraction...
"Lia," he whispered, "on my signal, I need you to enhance my aura blast targeting the ceiling supports. We'll bring down part of the chamber and use the chaos to escape."
She nodded grimly, her green aura pulsing as she prepared.
"I can hear your plotting," the lich said, raising a skeletal hand. "How ambitious, for children to think they might challenge Archlich Morvindrel."
With a casual gesture, it sent a wave of necrotic energy surging toward them. Marcus reacted instinctively, creating a crimson aura shield that Lia immediately enhanced. The necrotic wave crashed against their combined defense, partially dispersing but still powerful enough to knock them backward.
[MP Status: 520/590][Aura Shield Partially Effective][Note: Necrotic Energy Resistant to Standard Counters]
"Its magic doesn't follow normal patterns," Marcus realized. "I can't target specific points because it's pulling power straight from the necrotic plane."
"So I punch it really hard instead," Lia suggested, her typical solution to complex problems.
Before Marcus could stop her, Lia charged, her body wreathed in enhanced strength as she crossed the chamber in a blur. Her fist, glowing green with concentrated aura, connected with the lich's ribcage with enough force to shatter stone.
The undead creature staggered back a step—more surprised than hurt. Then it laughed, a terrible sound like bones clacking together.
"Spirited," it commented, almost approvingly. "But futile."
With horrifying speed, its bony hand shot out and grabbed Lia by the throat, lifting her off the ground despite her enhanced strength. Necrotic energy crackled around its fingers, making Lia cry out in pain.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He abandoned counter-techniques and formed his crimson aura into a massive spear, one of his favorite combat constructs. With precision born from years of practice, he hurled it not at the lich itself, but at the floor beneath it. The stone exploded upward, throwing the undead creature off balance and forcing it to release Lia.
"You okay?" Marcus called, already forming twin aura blades around his hands—another combat form he'd perfected for close-quarters fighting.
"Been better," Lia gasped, scrambling away. The skin where the lich had touched her was discolored, like a severe bruise spreading outward. "That thing hits like a nightmare."
The lich rose from the rubble, utterly unharmed. "Interesting tactics," it observed. "You are not ordinary children. Academy students, perhaps? Their standards must have fallen considerably, to send such young ones against me."
"We weren't sent to fight you," Marcus replied, trying to buy time while scanning the chamber for any advantage. "We didn't even know you were here."
"Your purpose is irrelevant," the lich dismissed. "You have disturbed my awakening, and now you shall serve me. Your life energy will accelerate my recovery most efficiently."
It raised its staff again, and dozens of skeletal hands burst from the chamber floor, grasping at them from all directions. Lia enhanced her agility, leaping and twisting to avoid the clutching fingers, while Marcus slashed through them with his aura blades, severing any that came too close.
But they were fighting a losing battle. Each attack from Marcus drained his MP, while the lich seemed to have endless reserves of necrotic power. Worse, Lia was slowing down—the corruption from the lich's touch was spreading through her system, weakening her enhancement abilities.
"Marcus," she called, her voice strained, "I'm fading here."
He could see she was right. The discoloration had spread up her neck and along one side of her face. If the necrotic corruption reached her core, the damage could be permanent—or fatal.
Making a split-second decision, Marcus created an enormous aura construct—not a weapon or shield, but a massive crimson dragon, one of his most powerful and MP-intensive forms. The dragon roared silently as it coiled protectively around him and Lia.
"New plan," he shouted as the dragon's tail lashed out, smashing one of the ancient columns. The stone cracked, then began to collapse, bringing down a section of the ceiling. "You're going back to the surface. Now."
"I'm not leaving you!" she protested, even as she staggered, clearly weakening.
"You're hurt and that corruption is spreading fast," he pointed out, directing his dragon construct to clear a path through the skeletal hands. "Someone needs to warn the Academy about what's down here, and you're faster than me."
"But—"
"I'll be right behind you," he lied, knowing she could see through it but hoping she'd make the smart choice. "I'll keep it busy while you get to the access point."
Lia looked torn, glancing between Marcus and the corridor. The decision was made for her when another pulse of necrotic energy made her double over in pain, the corruption visibly spreading.
"Go!" Marcus urged, pouring dangerous amounts of MP into his dragon construct, having it breathe a stream of crimson flame to create a barrier between them and the lich. "That's an order!"
With a final agonized look, Lia turned and ran for the corridor, her enhanced speed carrying her swiftly despite her injury. The lich moved to intercept her, but Marcus sent his dragon construct crashing directly into it, momentarily entangling the undead creature in coils of crimson aura.
"Your fight's with me, Archlich Morvindrel," he called, using its name as he'd heard it do. Names held power over magical entities, especially undead ones.
The lich disentangled itself from the dragon construct, those burning eyes fixing on Marcus with renewed interest. "You know my name," it hissed. "Yet I do not know yours, boy who wields aura so flexibly."
"I'm Marcus Phoenix of Emberfall Academy," he replied, deliberately using his full name. Every second the lich spent talking was another second for Lia to escape.
"A phoenix indeed," the lich observed, gliding closer. "I sense unusual energy within you. Damaged magical circuits, yet compensated by extraordinary aura development. Fascinating. Your life force will be particularly sweet."
[Warning: MP Critically Low][Current MP: 210/590][Recommendation: Tactical Withdrawal]
But withdrawal wasn't an option anymore. Marcus had committed to his role as distraction, and he would see it through. He only hoped Lia would reach the surface in time to warn the others.
"You'll find me hard to digest," Marcus replied, gathering his remaining MP for what would likely be his final stand.
Last Stand
Lia ran through the Archives corridors, her enhanced speed carrying her forward despite the cold agony spreading through her body. The necrotic corruption was like ice in her veins, sapping her strength with every heartbeat.
But worse than the physical pain was knowing she'd left Marcus behind. Her best friend, facing an undead horror alone so she could escape. It went against everything she believed in—never abandon a teammate, never leave a friend behind.
As she neared the access point, she heard distant sounds of battle echoing through the stone passages—energy blasts, crumbling masonry, the lich's hollow laughter. Marcus was still fighting, still alive.
She hesitated at the fissure that would lead back to the surface. Her duty was clear—get to Master Varrick, report what they'd found, bring help. But her heart screamed to turn back, to stand beside Marcus no matter what.
"Damn it all," she sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she began climbing upward. Marcus had made his choice, trusting her to complete the mission. She wouldn't fail him.
Back in the chamber, Marcus fought with desperate creativity. Direct confrontation was impossible—the lich's power dwarfed his own many times over. Instead, he focused on environmental manipulation, using his remaining MP to create aura constructs that brought down more of the chamber's structure, creating obstacles that even an undead archmage had to navigate.
"Your efforts only delay the inevitable," the lich called, casually deflecting falling debris with a shield of necrotic energy. "Though I admit, your resourcefulness impresses me. Perhaps I shall preserve your consciousness after consuming your life force—a pet to entertain me in the centuries to come."
"Hard pass," Marcus replied through gritted teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he maintained a shifting array of aura weapons—spears, blades, and hammers that forced the lich to constantly adjust its defenses. "Not really into eternal servitude."
[MP Status: Critical][Current MP: 85/590][Warning: Energy Reserves Nearly Depleted]
He wouldn't last much longer. His MP was draining rapidly, and even with careful conservation, he had minutes at most before total depletion. Once that happened, he'd be defenseless.
But perhaps that was the answer. Not defense, but a final, all-out attack.
Marcus had studied lich lore during his research into counter-magic. These undead archmages anchored their existence to physical objects—phylacteries that housed their souls and allowed them to persist after death. Destroy the phylactery, destroy the lich.
And he had a pretty good idea what Morvindrel's phylactery was—the crystal atop its staff, which pulsed with the same necrotic energy that surrounded the undead creature.
It was a desperate gamble, but the only one he had left.
"Getting tired, boy?" the lich taunted as Marcus's aura constructs visibly weakened. "Your life force wanes. Soon you will join my collection."
"One last trick first," Marcus replied, gathering every drop of his remaining MP.
He'd developed a technique during his years training with Lia—a concentrated aura lance designed to penetrate even the strongest magical barriers by focusing all his power into a single point. Without Lia's enhancement, it wouldn't be nearly as powerful, but it might be enough.
With a final surge of effort, Marcus launched the crimson lance directly at the crystal atop the lich's staff. The lich, perhaps surprised by the direct attack after Marcus's previous defensive strategy, reacted a fraction too slowly.
The aura lance struck the crystal with pinpoint accuracy, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, hairline fractures began to spread across its surface, glowing with the same crimson energy as Marcus's aura.
"NO!" the lich shrieked, genuine fear in its hollow voice for the first time. "IMPOSSIBLE!"
The crystal shattered, exploding in a cascade of necrotic energy that engulfed both the lich and Marcus. The last thing Marcus saw before consciousness fled was the undead creature's form disintegrating, those burning eye sockets fixed on him with a hatred that transcended death itself.
[MP Depleted: 0/590][HP Critical: 12/315][Status: Unconscious][System Message: Well, that was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Possibly both. Let's hope someone finds you before you bleed out in a collapsing ancient tomb. Not the worst epitaph, all things considered...]
Aftermath
Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the familiar smell of the Academy's medical wing—herbal poultices, purification enchantments, and the metallic tang of healing catalysts.
Marcus opened his eyes to find himself in a private recovery room, sunlight streaming through partially drawn curtains. His body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of enhanced elephants, and his magic reserves were still painfully depleted.
"About time," a familiar voice said from beside his bed. "I was about to dump water on your face to wake you up."
Lia sat in a chair pulled up next to him, her legs dangling without reaching the floor. The necrotic discoloration that had been spreading along her neck and face was gone, replaced by faint silvery tracings. She had dark circles under her eyes, but her familiar mischievous grin was firmly in place.
"How long?" Marcus managed, his voice raspy from disuse.
"Four days," she replied, pouring water from a pitcher and helping him drink. "You've been out cold since they pulled you from the rubble. Magical exhaustion, physical trauma, and necrotic exposure—the healers were taking bets on whether you'd wake up at all."
Memory returned in fragments—the Archives, the lich, the desperate final attack. "The lich? Is it—"
"Gone," Lia confirmed. "For now, anyway. Master Varrick says beings like that are almost impossible to kill permanently, but you messed up its anchor enough to force it into dormancy. The Archives have been completely sealed with new enchantments, and they've posted permanent guards at the site."
"And you?" Marcus asked, noting the lingering shadows under her eyes. "The necrotic corruption—"
"Super nasty," she admitted, making a face. "Took three master healers to clean it out, and I'll have these cool scars for years." She traced the silvery lines on her neck. "But I'm way tougher than some dusty old skeleton's magic."
Marcus nodded, relief washing through him. "I'm sorry I sent you away," he said quietly. "I just couldn't—"
"Let me get any more messed up," she finished for him. "I know. I was so mad at first, but..." She looked down, uncharacteristically serious. "You saved my life. The healers said another ten minutes with that corruption spreading, and they couldn't have fixed it."
Marcus was saved from responding by the door opening to admit Master Varrick, who looked both relieved and like he wanted to strangle them both.
"Finally awake," the master observed. "How do you feel?"
"Like I picked a fight with an undead archmage and lost," Marcus replied dryly.
"Not far from the truth," Varrick said, his severe expression softening slightly. "The magical backlash you absorbed would have killed most adult practitioners. You're lucky to be alive."
"In my defense, options were limited," Marcus pointed out.
"Indeed," Varrick acknowledged. "Which brings us to your futures at the Academy."
Marcus and Lia exchanged worried glances. Would they be expelled? They had technically disobeyed direct orders about withdrawing immediately upon encountering danger.
"The Council has reviewed what happened," Varrick continued. "While your decision to engage the entity rather than immediately retreat violated protocol, the circumstances were... exceptional. Had the lich fully awakened and reached the surface unimpeded, the casualties would have been catastrophic."
He walked to the window, looking out over the Academy grounds. "The Field Training Initiative has been suspended for review. However, once you've both recovered, you'll be transferred to a new specialized training program."
"What kind of program?" Lia asked, perking up despite the somber mood.
"One focused on identifying and containing high-level magical threats," Varrick explained. "Your encounter with the lich, while nearly fatal, demonstrated abilities the Academy can't ignore. Counter-magic and enhancement, properly combined, offer unique capabilities against entities that resist standard magical approaches."
Marcus processed this with mixed feelings. On one hand, specialized training would accelerate their development. On the other, it would mean deeper commitment to the Academy—the very institution he'd been thinking of leaving behind.
"What about Lysander?" he asked, realizing their third team member hadn't been mentioned.
"Mr. Thorn will be given the option to join as well," Varrick said neutrally. "His transfiguration abilities would complement your techniques in ways that could prove valuable."
"Fantastic," Lia muttered. "More time with Mr. Perfect."
"The healers insist on at least two more weeks of recovery before any training resumes," Varrick continued, ignoring her comment. "I suggest you use that time to reflect on your experience."
With that, he left them alone, closing the door quietly behind him.
"So," Lia said after a moment, "specialized training to fight super-dangerous magical monsters. That wasn't what I expected when we signed up for field work."
"Having second thoughts?" Marcus asked, watching her carefully.
Lia snorted. "Are you kidding? This is the coolest thing ever! We're going to be like... magical monster hunters!" Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Though maybe next time, we stick together instead of that self-sacrifice crap. Partners, remember?"
"Partners," Marcus agreed with a smile.
But even as he said it, his mind wandered back to his thoughts before the mission. The Academy was offering a more advanced program, but it was still the Academy—still walls and rules and endless drills. Out there, beyond Emberfall, a whole world waited. A world where his unusual abilities might forge a different path.
Maybe this specialized training would be worth seeing through. Or maybe it would just be more of the same constraints in fancier packaging. Either way, he had two weeks to think about it—and to recover enough strength to make a real choice.
"Promise me something?" Lia asked, holding out her hand with pinky extended—their childish but solemn gesture from years of friendship.
"What's that?"
"No more solo last stands," she said firmly. "Whatever comes next, we face it together."
Marcus linked his pinky with hers, though he wasn't entirely sure he could keep that promise. "Together," he agreed anyway.
[Quest Completed!][Title: Depths of the Archives][Reward: 8000 XP, Specialized Training Program Access][Bonus: Academy Recognition, Increased Reputation]
[Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!][You are now Level 46][All stats increased by 3][15 Stat Points Available][New Skill Acquired: Undead Insight Level 1][New Skill Acquired: Phylactery Disruption Level 1]
[System Message: From baby in a burned-down restaurant to battling ancient liches. Your career trajectory is impressive, if somewhat hazardous to your health. But is staying at magic school really what you want now? The call of adventure is pretty loud. And hey, at least when you're bleeding out in some dungeon, you've got a friend to drag your unconscious body to safety. That's something, right?]
As sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm patterns across the recovery room, Marcus found himself at a crossroads. The Academy offered security, structure, and advancement. The world beyond offered freedom, adventure, and the unknown.
He'd need to make a choice soon. But for now, he was simply grateful to be alive—and to have a friend stubborn enough to ensure he stayed that way, even when his own plans involved facing down the undead alone.
Whatever path he chose, he suspected that between lich-hunting and potential mercenary work, his second life would never be boring. And after ten years of reincarnation, that was perhaps the most important thing of all.