The Betrayed Prodigy's Spectacular Magical Comeback

Montgom

rts of Wanling Magic School looked majestic against the twilight sky. Yet, as I watched the flo

ster Vance hurried in, placing a freshly printed

xcitement. "Dean Sterling returned from his secluded cultivation early thi

ndishing his golden wand with radiant charisma, claiming to have unraveled the ancient Wither Curse. It was a brilliant

se. "All the House Deans have already assembled in the Great Hall.

f incoming freshman files. The name inked across the

extraordinary evaluation runes. "An innate magical font unseen in a hundred years. By all rights and

rd to monitor the courtyard below. The faculty members were gathered benea

House, rumbled. "Sterling refused to take a single private ap

istair has made no secret of it. He even petitioned the Board of Gove

f Origin was a direct violation of a thousand years of sacred coll

passed the gilded frame of Lord Sinclair, the painted figure scoffed lazily from within his canvas. "Don't expe

his youth, but he had long since devolved into an idle eccentric who treated the most ancient House

onial robes, I pushed open the tow

ing students. On the raised dais, three of the House Deans sat in their ornate chairs-save for the

he podium, the brass d

e Great Hall erupted into thunderous applause. He carried himself like a conquering

ith self-assured vanity. "Headmaster. I trust our li

destiny, Alistair," I replied evenl

ly: "Students, faculty, honored guests. Tonight, we welcome a most e

ent as all eyes turned toward the entrance, eager to

preside over the greatest sca

Hays

ore through my throat a

doubled over, my fingers clawing desperately at the cold stone beneath me, expecting

blood. There

ing arena platform. I was sitting on a wooden bench inside a small, da

lifted my han

by years of Alistair's brutal regimen. On the inside of my left wrist rested a faint, star-shaped birthmark.

o struck my temple, memories al

arriving at the magical fortress for

ba

dn't extinguished my existence; it had hurled my consciousness ba

d window of the antechamber. A majestic snowy owl, its pluma