The next week,

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The common room was still lit well past midnight, scattered with open textbooks, crumpled notes, and half-empty mugs of cooling tea.

Most students were hunched over their work, muttering spells, memorizing lineage dates, or scribbling furiously to finish last-minute summaries. Aria sat in a quiet corner, surrounded by piles of reference material she hadn’t opened yet, staring at the blank page before her with the same focused calm she brought to mapping dungeon layouts or planning border patrols.

Malphas walked over, carrying two fresh mugs, and set one down beside her. “You haven’t written a single line of notes. Everyone else is panicking. You look like...