Iris entered the concrete establishment. Tundra closely followed her. While other buildings used candles and lanterns, this place used filament lamps and lightbulbs. They painted the atmosphere with orange shades, illuminating the pale walls and white ceiling.

After meeting up, Iris took Tundra to a quiet laboratory near the Donhalgen outskirt. Learning that Iris had taken her to the Spellbound Facility, Tundra panicked. She couldn’t accept this gesture of goodwill. The price needed to lease a lab of this calibre was too much for a scholarship student like her. Even an Official Mage would find it hard to spend this much wealth.

But Iris, her connections far-reaching yet invisible, effortlessly got the place for herself. She dismissed Tundra’s plead and threatened not to bring her into the building if she continued to refuse the treatment. After entering the facility, Tundra grabbed the rim of Iris’s dress and stuck to her like a shy, inexperienced girlfriend.

They passed by a few Official Mages. Some recognised Iris and greeted her. They talked briefly about her papers, to which she modestly accepted their compliments. Tundra carefully memorised the keywords, engraving them onto her heart.

Iris arrived at her lab, the highest quality within Spellbound Facility. She gave the keycard to Tundra, letting her open it. Trembling in excitement, Tundra inserted the card and watched as the locked door glowed and slid open. She stepped inside the lab, the cold air tickling her face.

“This place . . . just for us?” she said.

“Do you not like our being together, alone?” Iris closed the door behind, which sealed itself.

“How could that be? Your . . . teaching has benefitted me much. I’d like it to continue forever.” Tundra opened her handbag and took out the notes Iris had written for her. “I’ve finished going through your notes and the books you recommended. With your guidance, my performance score will be better than most.”

Iris stared at Tundra’s face, her eyes unblinking, her gaze penetrating. The dense flow of Pure Power permeated Tundra, filled every part of her flesh, and soaked her blood with a transparent yet empowering aura. This array of unseen light, the critical point before the breakthrough, only required a slight push before the metamorphosis.

“How is your body?” Iris said. “Your foundation is now comparable to an Official Mage.”

Tundra furrowed her brows. She looked at her hands but couldn’t feel the unique sensation her professors taught her. That indescribable feeling was the boiling of her Pure Power, the breaking of the barrier between the Apprentice Tier and the Official Tier.

“I feel nothing. Is my compatibility with magic subpar?”

Iris merely smiled. “Maybe it’s not yet the time.”

“I hope it’ll be soon. If I become an Official Mage before the exam, my performance score will rank in the top ten of my year.”

“I only accept the top three, Tundra. If you fail, I won’t teach you anymore.”

Tundra’s eyes blazed with passion. She raised her right hand and clenched it into a fist. “Please reward me when I accomplish my task.”

With her determination ignited, she pestered Iris with theoretical and practical questions. Her progress forced Iris to admit that her pupil was superior to her talent-wise. If she were given the same opportunity as Iris, and if she were to survive it, she would have surpassed her mentor, though Iris was confident that no one could replicate her path, the path of stubborn recklessness.

“Let us pause the discussion here. Our objective is to test the effectiveness of our spells, yours specifically,” Iris said. “I’ve tasked you to invent a new spell using your instinct as the foundation. What kind of powers did you create?”

Tundra walked to the middle of the room. In a wave of her hands, Pure Power surged out of her body. Dark grey walls and ceiling flickered when magic particles touched them, absorbing, reflecting, and diminishing their intensity.

She pointed at a white dummy doll in front of her. Her fingertip quivered, and her blue Pure Power twirled around her wrist, coiling her hand and fingers. It morphed into an arrow whose tip radiated cold air which dampened heartbeats and slowed movement.

As Tundra flicked her finger, the frozen arrow shot forward, splitting the air, forming an icy trail behind it. Its tip reached the dummy, touched its mechanical skin lightly, and shattered into countless pieces. The shards dissipated into the freezing air that lingered in the atmosphere, colouring the world blue.

The dummy stood still, its exterior in perfect condition.

Iris narrowed her eyes. Her magical sight peered through the dummy’s armour. Beneath the calm, still stature, icy cracks propagated inside the doll, growing, invading, and stopping all forms of energy from moving. Like a tree, the ice sprouted leaves of fissures before blossoming the flower of doom.

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The dummy creaked, its internal structure collapsing, and its pale skin ruptured. Greenish liquid, tainted with icy blue, gushed out of its myriad wounds. The puddle of magical fluid formed an image of a tundra rose, whose five petals spanned half the room.

Iris walked to the puddle and knelt before it. She touched the bubbling icy fluid. Its bluish hue contaminated her fingertip, and its all-freezing power devoured her flesh, fighting against her Corruption Power. Her human appearance turned translucent, exposing her Slime Girl appearance.

“Your spell exceeds my expectation, Tundra. It’ll be a nightmare for a careless ordinary Official Mage.”

“Please don’t exaggerate, Lady Iris.” Tundra lowered her head, hiding her embarrassed grin. “I merely follow my feeling, as you advised, and created this spell from an inspiration. It’s still unnamed; can you name it for me?”

“The honour of naming a spell is with its creator. Are you sure you wish to give me that privilege?”

“My accomplishment cannot be without your guidance. I’d like to exchange this meagre honour for your acknowledgement. Please reward me more if you don’t think it’s adequate.”

“As your confidence rises, so does your eloquence.” Iris giggled. “I’ll call it Rose of Stillness, an assassination-type spell aimed to inflict a fatal strike faster than the eye could see. If the enemy cannot block it, and if they cannot forcefully suppress their overflowing energy, their body will falter, their flesh and blood frozen by the all-consuming frost.”

Tundra took a sharp breath and looked at her trembling right hand. The lingering frost chilled her; this spell was too deadly, too sinister. She was a mere undergraduate of Royal Magic Academy, yet her innocent, delicate hands could easily snuff a life with a single gesture.

“Does your power terrify you?” Iris said.

“I . . . can’t deny that. Although my power is nearing the Official Tier, my experience consists of controlled sparring and safe-environment training. To fight with my life on the line, it’s terrifying.”

“Even if you avoid it now, you’ll have to experience it in the future. You might not want to engage in a deadly battle, but others will force you to.” Iris smiled. “I didn’t want to fight either, but circumstances forced me.”

“You’re strong, Lady Iris, way stronger than I am.”

“I can teach you how to be strong.”

“Please change me for the better.” Tundra coyly tilted her head. “No matter how hard it may be, I’ll follow your guidance.”

“Are you expecting a reward?”

Tundra spoke nothing, but her shy yet expectant countenance conveyed everything. She worked hard, not just for herself, but also for Iris’s praise. Her mentor’s soothing voice and tone and manner delighted her. She yearned for more. This uncertain emotion plagued her heart, yet she failed to find the word defining it.

Knowing Tundra’s feelings, Iris kissed her pupil’s left cheek. Her soft lips firmly pressed on the delicate skin and moved away swiftly as to leave a short yet memorable aftertaste. Tundra almost melted, but her etiquette forbade her from expressing impolite behaviours.

This little teasing didn’t hinder the study. Iris discussed the advantages and disadvantages of Rose of Stillness, giving suggestions to improve and modify the spell. Tundra endlessly absorbed the information and used Rose of Stillness a few more times, but its intensive requirement left her drained after four times.

“No spell is perfect, no person omnipotent,” Iris said. “Although deadly, Rose of Stillness has little offensive power and requires a comparatively large amount of Pure Power. The easiest way to counter it is with a magical forcefield enveloping your body, a standard for Official Mages.”

“It’s best used as a follow-up with the first spell as a distraction and barrier breaker.”

“More importantly, Official Mages with fine control over their Pure Power can negate its fatal effect.”

“Is it a worthy spell?”

“If you have the opportunity to see me fight, you might see me shamelessly using it, although I hope you won’t be there.”

Tundra patted her own chest. “I might not be familiar with the art of killing, but I can protect myself.”

The conversation flowed from discussion to teasing and repeated itself. Tundra cast a few more spells while Iris commented on her performance. They rested a few minutes between the spell casting, just long enough for Tundra to recover her Pure Power. She wanted to rest more, but Iris insisted on having her get used to the state of exhaustion.

Her lips pale, Tundra panted and wiped the sweat on her forehead. Her vision occasionally blurred, spinning despite her unmoving body. She looked down at herself. Her soaked clothes revealed her modest cleavage, but her mind was too fatigued to form indecent thoughts. She only had one objective in mind: to stay awake.

If she could stay awake, Iris would praise her, and rewards would befall her. She must have it; she needed it.

Her shaking legs gave in. As she stumbled, a pair of hands caught her. She fell into the embrace of her dear one. She shivered while the hands caressed her waist, traced her abdomen, and separated their paths. One of them stroked her bosom, the other her back. She covered her mouth, pursing her lips, but her high-pitch voice blissfully rang.

Confusion clouded her pupils. Her weary heart couldn’t, and wouldn’t, resist this stimulating touch. She merely held her breath, tightened her chest, and lay open before these hands. She hoped that, by exposing her naked desires, she could invite more than just hands.

Iris leaned her face close to Tundra’s. Their cheeks touched, their warmth exchanged. They remained motionless, their hearts in sync, their breathing searing.

“You’re so weak, so fragile,” Iris said. “Did I not tell you never to let down your guard?”

Tundra shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, yet only muffled cries escaped her. Iris’s nails tickled the right part at the right time, shocking, arousing her.

“In this desolate place,” Iris said, “no one can save you. Only we exist; only we know what happens here.”

Iris’s right hand crawled toward Tundra’s crotch, and her left hand covered Tundra’s mouth. She flicked her fingers, her mouth nibbling on Tundra’s earlobe.

Tundra twitched. Her body tensed all over. Sweats and heat and sticky fluid tainted her innocent flesh, permeating every part of her pure heart. The pleasure formed cracks in her overflowing well of emotions. She shut her eyes and, with her last burst of strength, wrapped her arms around her teacher and kissed her tenderly.

Once their lips connected and their tongues intertwined, the barrier inside Tundra collapsed. Her anxiety and confusion dissolved within her nectar of love, which coated her thighs and legs, soaking her mind with the thoughts of Iris’s figure, Iris’s words, and Iris’s movement.

She felt light as if she were floating. Her existence elevated to that of a higher quality. Amidst her climax, she became an Official Mage and an official lover.