"Friends can still look like a couple," I said, reaching for a piece of bread. "It’s the way you bicker. Very domestic."

"We don’t bicker."

"You bicker constantly," Kevin said flatly, not looking up from his plate.

Vivianne turned on him so fast her borrowed coat nearly slipped off her shoulder. "Whose side are you on?"

"I didn’t know there were sides."

"There are always sides."

Kevin finally looked up, his expression as tired as it was unimpressed. "Then I’m on the side that gets to eat breakfast in peace."

Vivianne made a sound of pure indignation and threw a piece of cheese at him. He caught it without looking and ate it.

Evelina hid her smile behind her tea cup.

I tore off a chunk of bread and chewed slowly, letting the warmth settle in my stomach. Real bread. Real cheese. The archmage might be an ancient, manipulative immortal, but at least he had good taste.

"We should finish up," I said. "We don’t know how much time has passed outside this library."

"Don’t worry." Evelina’s voice was calm, almost smug. "I had the succubus keep track of the moment you teleported me inside."

"That won’t help."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"We don’t know if time in this place moves the same as outside."

"I thought you knew everything about this library."

"That was before the archmage arrived." I paused, running a hand through my hair. "Now? I have no idea if he’s tampered with our perception of time, too."

"So you’re saying," Vivianne cut in slowly, "there’s a chance we walk out of here and the church is already mid-ritual? Ready to wipe out millions?"

"I’m saying it’s a possibility."

Kevin set down his bread, his jaw tightening. "Then we stop talking and start moving."

"Finally," Vivianne muttered, climbing to her feet. "Something we agree on."

She dusted crumbs from Kevin’s coat, her coat now, apparently, and rolled her shoulders until her neck cracked. The exhaustion from yesterday hadn’t vanished, but it had settled into something manageable. Something she could push through.

Evelina finished her tea in one long sip, then stood with the fluid grace of someone who had never known awkwardness. Her crimson eyes swept the chamber one last time, cataloging exits, threats, the weight of the archmage’s lingering attention.

"You feel it too?" I asked her.

"He’s watching. Closer than before."

"Good. Let him watch."

I turned toward the corridor that had appeared while we slept, the one that led deeper into the library. The torches along its walls burned with steady, smokeless flames, casting just enough light to see the path ahead but not enough to reveal what waited at the end.

Vivianne fell into step beside Kevin. I noticed the way her shoulder brushed his, casual but deliberate. The way he didn’t pull away.

Evelina noticed too. Her lips curved, just slightly.

"Danger really does help speed up chemistry." I snickered.

"It really does," And Evelina agreed.

***

The corridor stretched before us, torchlight flickering against walls that seemed to breathe. Not visibly, but I could feel it, a slow, rhythmic pulse beneath the stone, like the library itself was alive and watching.

"Does anyone else feel that?" Kevin asked quietly.

"The heartbeat?" Vivianne’s voice was low. "Yeah. Hard to miss."

"It’s the archmage," Evelina said. "Or what’s left of him. He’s bound himself to this place. The library is his body now."

"That’s disgusting. How do you know that?" Vivianne muttered.

"She read his memories," I replied. "Even with his defense, the amount of magic he’s leaking from the constant illusions should be enough for Evelina to use."

We walked in silence for a while, the only sounds our footsteps and that distant, rhythmic pulse. The torches burned steadily, casting our shadows long and thin against the floor.

Kevin moved closer to Vivianne. Not dramatically, just a step, a slight adjustment in position that put his shoulder nearer to hers. She didn’t acknowledge it, but she didn’t move away either.

Evelina’s fingers brushed against mine.

"They’re going to be insufferable after this," she murmured, low enough that only I could hear.

"Weren’t we worse?"

"We’re still worse."

"Don’t worry," I said. "I’ll make sure this doesn’t distract them from getting stronger."

"Good." A pause. "I find them useful pawns to use from time to time."

"Could’ve told me you were using them."

"I didn’t see the importance of it. They were fairly safe tasks."

"Fair point."

The corridor widened, the walls receding into darkness on either side until we were walking through a vast emptiness lit only by the torches that floated at seemingly random intervals. The ceiling had vanished entirely, replaced by more darkness.

"Welcome," the archmage’s voice echoed, "to the final trial."

The torches flared, their flames leaping higher, burning white instead of orange. The darkness around us pressed closer, but not like before, not hostile, just... threatening.

"Four of you," the archmage continued, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. "Well... technically more. You’ve passed my tests of body, mind, and heart. Now you face the final measure."

"No riddles this time?" I called out. "No illusions?"

"You’ve earned my respect, boy. I won’t insult you with tricks."

Then, suddenly, he appeared right in front of us.

But this time, he looked younger, at least in his thirties, wearing a beautiful, glowing royal suit, with a cloak trailing behind him across the floor, leaving strange glitters and sparkles in its wake.

He looked less like an archmage and more like a fantasy prince, or to be more accurate, he looked like if the moon and ocean had a mortal baby.

"Instead, you’ll have to fight me."

He spread his arms wide, as if making himself a massive target.

But...

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I said immediately, my tone firm. There was no way he actually expected that, right? I didn’t even think anyone could beat him, even if the entire continent joined forces against him. He was a myth, a legend.

Someone that only Julius at the end of the novel could defeat.

"What game are you playing this time?"