The next morning the palace felt different the halls quieter the breaths shorter the guards more alert as if the entire building sensed something heavy approaching. Evan walked through the corridor flanked by Serin on his right and Myra on his left while Arilon followed a few steps behind. Their footsteps echoed against the polished floors like steady drumbeats marking the countdown toward something dangerous.

“Royal Arcanists do not play lightly” Arilon warned “They will push you harder than anyone before They have no fear of magic breaking They believe in rebuilding from ruins”

“Wonderful” Evan muttered “I just hope they leave something for me to rebuild”

Serin eyed him “Are you scared”

“Yes obviously” Evan said “But I am also curious and unfortunately curiosity usually wins with me”

Myra smiled softly “Just remember you are not here to overpower them You are here to help them understand the system Your voice is your shield”

“Great” Evan said “I have a shield made of sound against people who shoot lightning”

They reached a large circular chamber deeper in the castle than Evan had been before. This room was built with thick stone walls reinforced with glowing runes arranged in concentric rings. The air hummed faintly alive with stored spells ready to neutralize anything destructive.

The eldest arcanist stood at the center of the circular arena his blue robe sweeping across the polished stone. The others stood spaced evenly around him forming a closed circle. They looked calm but intense like musicians preparing for a performance only they could hear.

“Evan Hartley” the eldest arcanist said “Today we test your unifying theory If your rules collapse under pressure your methods are incomplete If they endure then your voice will reshape our kingdom forever”

Evan stepped into the circle inhaling slow “Then let’s test them”

The eldest arcanist spoke “We begin with high tier wind magic Rhythm destabilizes easily at higher compression We will attempt to disrupt your rule”

He raised his hand and spoke sharply “Ves thor ellin”

A massive tornado burst into existence swirling violently It smashed into the runic barriers sending booming echoes through the chamber.

Evan squinted “Your rhythm collapsed That is why it spun unevenly Not power rhythm You compressed the second syllable too fast”

The arcanist narrowed his eyes “Correct it then outsider”

Evan raised a hand “Do the chant like this Veess thoorr ell inn Even spacing Keep the breath low The rhythm must carry through the final syllable”

The arcanist repeated the chant with controlled pacing
The tornado stabilized
The swirl tightened
The pressure focused