Haeun was nervous. More nervous than she’d ever been in her life. More than the first time she’d snuck out of the palace, more than when Eunae had asked Yoshika to take her on as an apprentice, more than her first day at Jiaguo’s academy, and even more than when she’d first learned that she’d be returning home.

It wasn’t a fear of failure. If anything, she was extremely confident that she’d shatter whatever expectations Cousin Min had for her. It was more abstract than that. An inexplicable thing that she couldn’t quash no matter how she meditated.

Haeun had lived under the burden of high expectations for as long as she could remember. Her early awakening, strong bloodline, and inborn talent for magic all made her a favorite among her family. Most importantly, her talents expressed themselves in a more acceptable way than her sister—whose bewitching gaze brought about too many bad memories for her to ever be fully accepted by the older family members.

She was used to that kind of pressure. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was at least familiar. She would meet and exceed the expectations of her family. There was no other option, and there never had been. Haeun wasn’t worried about that in the slightest.

But her master was another story. Empress Yoshika probably didn’t realize just how much of an inspiration she was. It wasn’t just in Jiaguo, where she was practically revered as a goddess, but even those who had come from distant parts of Goryeo, Yamato, and even Qin all held her in high esteem.

Yoshika was proof that no hegemony was absolute. That anyone, with time and dedication, could elevate themselves high enough to challenge nations, empires, and even the heavens themselves. She had brazenly founded an empire on the doorstep of the most powerful being in the world, and nobody dared to challenge her.

As a royal herself, perhaps such a renegade should frighten her, but it filled Haeun with hope. If Yoshika could change her own fate, then perhaps Haeun could too.

Haeun’s master put no pressure on her. Certainly she had high expectations, but those expectations weren’t a condition of her acceptance. In the vanishingly unlikely scenario that Haeun failed, Yoshika would still accept her with open arms—as would Eunae, Narae, and perhaps even Aecha, wherever she was.

For once, the pressure didn’t come from outside, but from within. Haeun wasn’t worried that she’d fail her master—she couldn’t. Nevertheless, she wanted to impress her. To prove to Yoshika, her family, the world, but most of all to herself, that she was worthy to call herself Yoshika’s apprentice.

To Haeun, the graduation exam wasn’t about securing an honorary title as a college alumnus, nor about proving the efficacy of Jiaguo’s academy. It was her chance to finally give back to those who’d supported her growth as an individual, instead of trying to mold her into something else.

They gathered within the palace’s Sky Hall—a rather unusual venue, but given what Narae had planned, perhaps warranted. Haeun was looking forward to that part—if things went to plan, then Haeun would be nowhere close to the center of attention. A welcome reprieve.

The Sky Hall was a specialized courtyard with a paved floor and an open view of the sky above—hence the name. It was covered in wards and formations designed to contain any damage and route excess power back into the formations, so that it could be utilized by the occupants. Essentially, it was the continent’s premier tribulation room.

Qin had its mountains, and no shortage of formation experts of their own to prepare spaces for breakthroughs, but the Sky Hall was the culmination of Goryeo’s entire history of arcane arts, focused entirely towards a single dedicated purpose.

Haeun had never been one for nationalistic pride, but she had to make an exception for this one accomplishment. The Sky Hall was an artifact comparable to Jiaguo’s reflecting pool, and one of her people’s greatest advantages after the shield formations that guarded their cities.

Inside, Seong Min waited, joined by a pair of wizened old magi that Haeun didn’t recognize. Haeun entered with Lee Narae at her side, followed closely by An Eui and Eunae.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. It was fine. She could do this.

Narae noticed her nerves and gave Haeun an encouraging smile. Once again, Haeun was struck by envy. Narae never worried about anything—even when she really should. Still, she couldn’t ask for a better friend with which to face the trial before her.

Haeun and Narae advanced to the center of the courtyard facing Min and the other magi. They bowed in unison and Haeun greeted their proctors.

“Princesses Seong Haeun of Goryeo and Lee Narae of the Jiaguo Empire offer their greetings. Prime Minister Grand Magus Princess Seong Min, you honor us with your presence, sister.”

Seong Min nodded her approval.

“Rise, both of you. I will keep things brief, as this is an extremely unorthodox use of the Sky Hall. I’d have never allowed it if not for the recommendation of two of my clan sisters. Eunae, I understand, but how in the names of our ancestors did you convince Misun?”

Haeun didn’t see it, but she could hear the smile in Eui’s voice as she answered.

“I showed her my disciples’ theses.”

Cousin Min was unmoved, but the magi flanking her exchanged nervous looks. The princess brushed a stray lock of hair over her shoulder and shrugged.

“Very well, though I’ll be holding you personally responsible if this interferes with my cousin’s upcoming breakthrough, Empress.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Eui bowed graciously.

“Of course.”

“Then let us begin. Girls, you will be tested on your knowledge and ability in the arcane arts, then offered a chance to demonstrate your contributions to arcane theory. Understand that failure in any area of this examination means failure of the entire test. Should you fail, you will be unable to try again for a period of at least five years, subject to my discretion. Do you acknowledge and agree to these terms?”

Haeun and Narae responded in unison.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Good.”

Min gestured to either side, and the magi flanking her came around to hand the girls each a large stack of shockingly high quality paper.

“Your written exams. Each is unique and hand-crafted, so don’t bother trying to cheat or collaborate. Any attempt to do so anyway will be met with immediate failure. You have ninety minutes, starting now. Begin!”

Haeun glanced around anxiously. No writing surface or materials had been provided. She had her own brushes and ink, but where was she supposed to—?

Narae didn’t hesitate. She dropped into a cross-legged position on the floor and got to work. Haeun smiled and followed suit, sitting back to back with her friend to provide what little support they could for each other.

Once she got started, the written portion was even easier than she’d expected. Big Brother Dae covered more complex subjects in his third year classes. Some of the proofs the test demanded were complicated, but the need for proofs meant that the topics rarely deviated from the empirically provable. There was only one portion covering theory, which tasked her to write an essay opinion about esoteric elements—something that fourth-year classes at the academy covered extensively.

Haeun finished her test with over thirty minutes to spare, which she spent going back over it to double-check her work and apply any necessary corrections. She was briefly worried when Narae hadn’t handed her work in with only a few minutes left on the clock, but when Min declared the end of the time limit, Narae confidently handed over her finished stack.

“You are permitted a thirty minute break while we evaluate your results.”

Haeun let out a sigh of relief as she returned with Narae to the edge of the courtyard where her sister and Eui were waiting. She gave Narae a sidelong glance as they walked together.

“How do you think you did?”

Narae grinned impishly.

“It was easy! I feel bad for making Dae waste his time preparing those study notes.”

Eui smacked Narae with her tail.

“It was easy because you were prepared. Don’t get cocky.”

“R-right, sorry!”

While Haeun didn’t disagree with her master, Narae was right. They could have easily managed the written portion without any review. If that was the standard the colleges held their graduates to, then the rest of the exam would be a joke. She wouldn’t be letting her guard down, though.

Before long, Haeun’s cousin called them back.

“Seong Haeun, Lee Narae, we’ve found your results to be satisfactory and will now move on to the practical examination. Here, we will test your spellcrafting ability. You will be given instructions for a spell and tasked to replicate it with a formation as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

Min spread her arms out to gesture at the area around them.

“Normally, you’d be free to make use of the space and any materials you brought with you, but since your master insisted on the Sky Hall, there are additional constraints.”

She smirked.

“Any formations you draw must not interfere with the ambient mana within the Sky Hall, and must also be completely temporary. Thus, staining materials such as ink or paint are forbidden, as are any and all engraving techniques. Similarly, your formations must draw power exclusively from either your own auras or mana stones—which you are expected to provide yourselves.”

Haeun pursed her lips. If she hadn’t already spent the last two weeks drilling her formations with chalk, that would have been an impossible demand. Even so, the ban on self-powering formations was a huge restriction. They only had so much mana in their auras, and even if they’d thought to bring their own mana stones, it would be trivial for the examiners to simply force them to use different elements.

Eui stepped forward and crossed her arms.

“Are spirit familiars acceptable as power sources?”

Min waved a hand dismissively.

“If they have a spirit willing and able to serve as a living battery, then certainly. I don’t sense anything of the sort on either of them, however, and the test is to begin immediately.”

Haeun’s eyes widened. Had her cousin really fallen for such an obvious trap? Did...did she not know about Heian at all? Or Iseul’s advancements in manual formation designs? The research treaties were supposed to be bilateral—what were they doing with the knowledge Jiaguo’s academy published?

Without another word, Heian manifested in both of her forms. Her cat form, which now came up to Heian’s waist, sat by Haeun’s side while her human form joined Narae. Heian’s human persona rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“I’ll do it. I’ve been practicing too.”

Seong Min blinked, briefly stunned before schooling her expression.

“I must remind you that outside interference is strictly forbidden.”

Eui shrugged.

“Heian will only provide her essence, isn’t that right honey?”

Heian nodded slowly.

“No problem.”

Haeun’s cousin turned around to consult with her fellow examiners for a moment before turning back and clearing her throat.

“Very well, but if we detect any signs of foul play, both applicants will be failed on the spot and barred from ever attempting the exam again.”

That was a surprisingly dire threat. Min risked seriously angering the rest of the family if she went through with permanently banning Haeun from graduation, but she was nothing if not a stickler for procedure.

Eui grinned confidently.

“Fine by me. Good luck, girls!”

Haeun steeled herself. Heian’s assistance was invaluable, but all it did was even the playing field again. Eui wouldn’t have made them spend so much time practicing if she didn’t expect the practical exam to be difficult.

Come to think of it—why had she made Heian practice with them? Did she anticipate this? Haeun hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but suddenly it felt like an incredible coincidence. She didn’t have time to worry about it. The test was about to begin, and she’d need every ounce of her focus.

Haeun gripped one of the many sticks of chalk that she’d brought for the test and faced her cousin defiantly. It was time to show them the value of Jiaguo’s academy.