The Extra's Rise-Chapter 494: Archmage Charlotte (3)

"Why is she here?" Cecilia asked, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she eyed Clara. The girl was currently swaying on her feet, eyelids drooping as though gravity had decided they made excellent weights.

Charlotte’s lips quirked into an amused smile. "Her mother sent this sleephead to me for some much-needed discipline," she explained, tugging absently at one of her circuit-threaded sleeves. "Apparently, she couldn’t handle her anymore with all the diplomatic work piling up since the vampire crisis began."

As if on cue, Clara’s knees buckled. Instead of crashing to the floor, she gently descended onto a shimmering, translucent pillow that materialized beneath her. The pillow hovered a perfect eighteen inches off the ground, sustained by her Mind aspect Gift even as consciousness slipped away from her.

Cecilia blinked, then turned to Charlotte with an expression that clearly asked, Are you serious?

Charlotte merely shrugged, emerald eyes glinting with mischief. "She misses Arthur just like you do, though her attachment is strictly platonic. It’s making her even lazier than usual." She gestured between them with a casual flick of her wrist. "You get a solid sparring partner, and I get to fulfill a promise to an old friend. This, princess, is what we call a win-win deal."

Cecilia considered this. Despite Clara’s narcoleptic tendencies, she was undeniably powerful—a six-circle mage whose combat capabilities were well-documented. The daughter of Eva Lopez, Rank 11, Clara had inherited her mother’s Mind aspect talent.

"Fine," Cecilia conceded, uncrossing her arms. "But if she sleeps through training, I’m not responsible for what happens."

"Oh, she won’t sleep through the important parts," Charlotte said with a knowing smile that sent a chill down Cecilia’s spine. "Now, shall we begin?"

The training grounds in the Tower of Magic were nothing like the manicured gardens of the Imperial Palace. Here, the earth was scorched in patterns that spoke of countless magical duels. Barrier runes inscribed into stone pillars surrounded the area, designed to contain even the most volatile spellwork. The air itself felt charged, as though the very molecules were waiting for the command to ignite.

Clara, now miraculously awake (though her eyes remained half-lidded), stood across from Cecilia. She yawned widely, covering her mouth with a delicate hand.

"Don’t hold back on my account, princess," she mumbled, blinking slowly. "I function better under pressure."

Charlotte stood at the edge of the training circle, her posture casual but her gaze sharp. "Today, we’re focusing on six-circle spell construction and containment. Both of your Gifts give you tremendous offensive capabilities, but raw power without control is just glorified property damage." She flicked her fingers, and a series of glowing magical circles appeared in the air between them. "Cecilia, your Witchcraft turns conventional spellwork unpredictable. Clara, your Sorcerer’s Right gives you elemental versatility few mages can match. But neither of you has mastered the fine art of not killing everyone in the room when you cut loose."

Cecilia bristled at the criticism, but couldn’t deny its truth. Her Gift painted her mana crimson, infusing her spells with a chaotic, supernatural quality that often exceeded her expectations—and sometimes, her control.

"Begin with a standard three-circle defensive formation," Charlotte instructed. "Then gradually build to six. I want to see your thought processes, not just the final product."

Cecilia closed her eyes, concentrating on the familiar patterns. Three circles of mana formed before her—crimson light that pulsed with her heartbeat. The first circle controlled intensity, the second direction, and the third purpose. Simple, clean, fundamental.

Across from her, Clara’s approach looked entirely different. Her eyes had opened fully now, a startling alertness replacing her earlier drowsiness. She extended one hand, and six distinct colored circles materialized around her arm: yellow, green, red, cyan, blue, and purple—fire, earth, water, wind, lightning, and ice respectively. The colors swirled and merged around her like a prismatic cloak, the Sorcerer’s Right Gift activating in its full glory.

"Clara," Charlotte called out, her voice sharp with warning, "I said start with three."

"Sorry," Clara replied, not sounding sorry at all. "Force of habit."

The six circles collapsed into three—a simplified version focusing on wind, water, and fire. The sudden control in her movements was jarring compared to her earlier lethargy. It was like watching a different person inhabit the same body.

"Impressive transition," Charlotte noted. "Now, both of you, add the fourth circle—the circle of resonance."

Cecilia concentrated, drawing on her magical education. The fourth circle was where spellwork began to evolve from basic to complex, where the mage’s intent had to align perfectly with their technique. She formed the circle of resonance, watching as her crimson mana became deeper, richer, almost burgundy as the spell’s complexity increased.

Clara added her fourth circle with fluid grace, the colors shifting as she incorporated lightning into her formation. The air around her crackled with potential energy. frёeωebɳovel.com

"Good," Charlotte said, walking around them in a slow circle. "The fifth—the circle of evolution."

This was where things always became tricky for Cecilia. The fifth circle required the mage to anticipate how the spell would evolve once cast, to build in parameters for growth and adaptation. Her Witchcraft Gift made this particularly challenging, as her spells had a tendency to develop in unexpected ways.

She gritted her teeth, forming the fifth circle with meticulous care. The crimson light began to pulse erratically, small tendrils of darkness weaving through it like veins.

"You’re fighting your Gift," Charlotte observed, stopping beside her. "Don’t try to force it into conventional patterns. Your Witchcraft wants chaos—give it controlled chaos. Think of it as directing a river rather than building a canal."

Cecilia nodded, adjusting her approach. Instead of trying to force her mana into rigid structures, she allowed it to flow more naturally while establishing boundaries for that flow. The result was immediate—her five circles stabilized, the crimson light swirling with purpose rather than rebellion.

"Better," Charlotte said, then turned to Clara. "And you—stop holding back. I can see you’re keeping your elements segregated. The fifth circle is about integration, not compartmentalization."

Clara sighed dramatically but complied. Her five circles began to blend at the edges, the colors mixing in complex patterns that changed moment by moment. The prismatic cloak around her grew brighter, the individual elements strengthening as they influenced each other.

"Now for the sixth circle—the circle of transcendence," Charlotte announced. "This is where your spell becomes more than the sum of its parts. Where intent transforms into reality."

Cecilia focused intensely, drawing on everything she’d learned over the years. The sixth circle was about transformation—taking the groundwork laid by the previous five and elevating it to something greater. Her crimson mana flared brilliantly as she completed the formation, the six circles interlocking in a complex pattern that hummed with power.

Clara’s six circles merged into a single, shimmering aura that encompassed her entire body. Each element remained distinct yet connected, flowing into one another in an endless cycle of creation and transformation.

"Excellent," Charlotte said, satisfaction evident in her voice. "Now, make them dance."

The cryptic instruction hung in the air for a moment before Cecilia understood. This wasn’t just about forming the circles—it was about manipulating them, adapting them in real-time.

Charlotte clapped her hands, and a dozen spectral targets appeared around the training ground. "Hit them, but adapt your spellwork between each target. No repetition."

Clara moved first, her drowsiness completely gone now. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a spiral of fire and lightning toward the first target, the elements twisting around each other before striking with precision. For the second, she transitioned seamlessly to earth and water, creating crystals that shattered on impact.

Not to be outdone, Cecilia unleashed her own assault. Her crimson spellwork manifested as writhing shadows for the first target, then shifted to something like solidified lightning for the second. Each spell was unique, unpredictable, marked by the supernatural chaos of her Witchcraft Gift.

"Good," Charlotte called out. "Now against each other. Non-lethal only, please. I just had this place renovated."

Cecilia turned to face Clara, who had dropped into a combat stance that looked incongruous with her usually sleepy demeanor. There was nothing drowsy about her now—her eyes were sharp, calculating, her posture perfect.

"Begin!" Charlotte commanded.

Clara struck first, her six elements surging forward in a wave of prismatic energy. Cecilia countered with a crimson barrier that absorbed the assault, then twisted the energy back into a counterattack.

The exchange was breathtaking—Clara’s elemental versatility against Cecilia’s supernatural chaos. Where Clara was methodical, precise, each element flowing perfectly into the next, Cecilia was unpredictable, her spells defying conventional magical theory.

"Cecilia," Charlotte called out as she deflected a particularly aggressive ice spike, "stop trying to overpower her. Your Gift isn’t about brute force—it’s about transformation. Change the rules, don’t just break them."

Cecilia gritted her teeth, adjusting her approach. Instead of meeting Clara’s elemental barrage head-on, she began to twist and redirect it, infusing the elements with her own chaotic energy before sending them back.

"Better!" Charlotte encouraged. "Clara, your transitions are too predictable. A six-circle mage should be impossible to anticipate."

Clara nodded, her expression focused despite the sweat beading on her brow. Her next combination came without warning—earth to lightning to ice in a split second, bypassing the expected progression entirely.

The spar continued, growing more intense with each exchange. Cecilia found herself genuinely challenged, forced to adapt constantly as Clara’s elemental attacks came from increasingly unexpected angles. Despite her irritation with the girl’s normally lethargic demeanor, she couldn’t deny Clara’s combat prowess was exceptional.

"Enough!" Charlotte called finally, as both girls began to show signs of magical fatigue. "Well done, both of you. Different approaches, different strengths, both effective in their own way."

Cecilia lowered her hands, her crimson mana fading. Across from her, Clara’s prismatic cloak dissipated, and almost immediately, her eyelids began to droop again.

"Is she... going to sleep? Now?" Cecilia asked incredulously.

Charlotte chuckled. "Her Gift consumes enormous amounts of energy. The drowsiness is a side effect—her body’s way of conserving resources."

As if to confirm this, Clara yawned widely, the sharpness in her eyes already fading back to sleepy indifference. "Good match," she mumbled, another translucent pillow forming beneath her as she sank down onto it.

Cecilia shook her head in disbelief. "Unbelievable."

"What you both demonstrated today was impressive," Charlotte said, gathering their attention. "But also revealing. Cecilia, your Witchcraft gives you tremendous potential, but you’re still fighting against its nature rather than working with it. And Clara, your elemental transitions need to be less predictable—a skilled opponent will identify your patterns."

She stepped into the center of the training ground, her own mana manifesting as a subtle shimmer in the air. "Six-circle magic isn’t just about power or complexity. It’s about harmony—between intent and execution, between control and creativity." She formed her own six circles with effortless grace, the formation so perfect it seemed to exist in more dimensions than the eye could perceive.

"Tomorrow, we’ll focus on spontaneous adaptations. The battlefield rarely gives you time to think through your constructions." She dismissed her spell with a casual wave. "For now, rest. Recover. And Cecilia?" Her emerald eyes locked onto the princess with unnerving intensity. "Stop comparing yourself to Arthur. Your paths are different, but they may yet converge—if you master yourself first."

With that cryptic parting statement, Charlotte turned and walked toward the house, leaving Cecilia standing beside a now-softly-snoring Clara, whose hovering pillow gently bobbed in the afternoon breeze.

Cecilia glanced down at her crimson-tinged hands, then at the peaceful face of her unlikely training partner. Perhaps this arrangement wasn’t going to be quite as unbearable as she’d initially thought.