The Ascendant Wizard-Chapter 120 - The Price of Failure

Silence hung in the air for a moment after Varra spoke.

"Pack your things, and get out. Leave your badges and booklet; the Tower doesn't need people like you."

It felt like the end of something.

The three who had not raised their hands froze as if their minds had stopped working. For a few seconds, none of them moved; no one in the room did.

Even the faint shifting of robes and scraping of chairs had gone quiet; you could hear a pin drop.

Then the first one moved.

A girl near the middle rows lowered her head, her hands trembling as she began to stand. Morena recognized her vaguely, with dark hair tied messily, ink stains on her fingers. Someone who had always sat alone, rarely socializing with others.

Her lips pressed together tightly.

She did not argue, and she did not look up.

She simply took off her badge with shaking fingers and placed it gently on the desk. Then her booklet, which she laid on top of it as if it were a gravestone marker.

For a moment, she just stared at them.

Then she turned and walked down the steps, each step oddly loud in the silence. No one met her eyes, and no one said anything; everyone pitied her, but no one was going to speak up for her.

The door creaked softly when she left, and just like that, one person was gone.

The second one was a boy in the far back. Morena had barely noticed him before; he had the look of a farmer's son, broad shoulders, rough hands, and eyes that always seemed tired.

He stared at Varra, then at his own hands.

His jaw tightened in anger, not at the lady, but at himself for failing after coming this far. He was supposed to make something of himself so he could help his father, but now he had failed.

Slowly, he removed his badge and let it drop onto the desk. He held onto the booklet a moment longer, then forced his fingers to release it.

When he stood, his legs almost buckled, but he caught himself on the desk, swallowed hard, then made his way toward the stairs.

His eyes shone with unshed tears, but he refused to cry in front of everyone. Morena could see his shoulders shaking with each step.

Ren watched him with wide eyes.

He left without a word.

Only one remained.

The last student was seated near the middle on the far left. A boy with short blond hair and a sharp, narrow face. Morena had seen him before in the halls, complaining loudly about the food, the teachers, the Tower.

He sat frozen in place, his knuckles white on the edge of his desk.

Slowly, his eyes rose to Varra.

"You are serious."

It was not a question, more like shock at the statement.

Varra didn't even bother looking at him when she replied in a tired tone.

"Of course."

He let out a short, broken laugh.

"You are throwing us out for this? For not feeling some invisible air? That is it?"

Varra's gaze did not soften.

"You had a week. The minimum requirement was to sense what every Wizard must sense. You failed."

The boy's face twisted.

"I tried. Do you think I did nothing? I did exactly what you said. I meditated until my head hurt. I followed all the breathing patterns. I followed everything."

He stood from his seat so quickly that the chair scraped loudly against the stone.

"And now you say, 'get out, the Tower does not need people like you.' Just like that. As if we are garbage."

Varra shook her head as he spoke, and then explained it, not just to him but to everyone who had passed as well. So they knew why they got to stay, and the others didn't.

"If you failed here, you would fail later. Better to cut losses early. It is kinder than letting you waste years you do not have."

"Kinder?"

His voice cracked.

"How is this kind? You do not know anything about us. I left my family for this. I gave up everything to come here. I had to buy my way into this place. My father sold land for this chance."

His breathing turned harsh.

"And you tell me it was all pointless. Because I did not feel anything within a week."

Several students shifted uneasily as they were a lot like him, but none were as daring as he was to speak out to the teacher the way he was. Morena knew this couldn't possibly end well.

Varra watched the boy with an expression that did not change.

"You knew the terms when you entered."

He laughed again, bitter this time.

"Of course. The great Tower. The legendary place of Wizards. You make us sign papers we cannot read properly, you speak your conditions once and call it informed consent."

He slammed his hand on the desk.

"We are new. We do not know how long it is supposed to take. We do not know what is normal. You give us one week and then cut us off."

He pointed at her.

"You are nothing but a butcher pretending to be a teacher."

Several people inhaled sharply.

Morena felt a subtle shift in the air.

He had forgotten where he was.

Varra tilted her head slightly.

"You are angry."

"No, I am thrilled to be thrown out and told my entire life is worthless."

Ren swallowed as he was the closest of the group to the boy.

"Stop talking."

He whispered under his breath.

The boy continued, unable or unwilling to stop.

"You Wizards are all the same. Looking down on everyone. Playing with people as if they are pieces on a board. If we succeed, you take credit. If we fail, you throw us away."

Varra raised her hand a fraction.

The air cooled.

"This Tower is not a charity. It is not a home for the lost. It is not here to nurse your feelings."

Her voice carried a chill of its own now.

"It is a crucible. You were told the rules. You knew the consequences."

He stepped away from the desk.

"And what if I refuse? I am not leaving because you told me to. You do not get to decide my entire life with one sentence."

His eyes blazed with defiance.

"I am not going anywhere."

The atmosphere in the room tightened.

Morena felt the prickling on her skin that came with condensed mana. It settled around Varra like invisible frost.

Several students shrank back slightly in their seats.

Varra regarded him for a heartbeat.

Then her eyes went colder.

"You are in my class, in the Tower, under my rules."

She lifted her hand.

Ice appeared.

It formed from nothing, crystallizing in the air around the boy in thin, sharp lines that snapped into place like glass threads. In an instant, they wrapped around his arms, his torso, his legs.

He froze.

Literally.

It was not a slow process; there was no time to dodge, no chance to react. One moment, he was standing, glaring, breathing, and the next, a shell of clear ice had encased him completely.

His expression was still twisted in anger, his eyes wide, his mouth open as if mid-sentence.

Morena watched in shock, recording every moment of it with the AI so that she could use it as a reference later on.

Varra lowered her hand slightly.

Then cracks appeared.

They spread swiftly across the spike of ice like glass lines. Tiny at first, then growing, branching out in jagged patterns until the entire structure was laced with fractures.

Varra flicked her fingers, and the ice shattered.

There was no dramatic explosion, no flying chunks of blood and gore. The shards broke into fine fragments, like crushed crystal dust, and whatever remained of the boy within was ground with it.

What hit the floor was a mixture of frost, red speckles, and shredded cloth.

The sound it made left the room reeling backwards.

Someone in the back vomited at the sight.

Another student dropped their pen; the small clink was absurdly loud in the silence that followed. The smell of blood slowly leaked into the room, faint but unmistakable.

Varra lowered her arm, her expression unchanging.

"This is not a playground."

Her voice cut through the gasps, vomiting, and noise of the students as they reacted to the scene of a swift death before them.

"This is not some academy, where a few harsh words are the worst punishment you will face."

She looked across the room, her gaze lingering on different faces one by one. Morena felt it pass over her again, colder this time, more direct.

"This is a Tower of Wizards. Those who cannot follow rules, who cannot accept consequences, who cannot control themselves, do not belong here."

She paused.

"Consider this a reminder."

No one spoke.

No one even dared to breathe too loudly.