Let's Train Heroine

The air was thick with the lingering presence of ancient spells, and every item seemed to hum with a quiet, almost ominous energy. But Lucan\'s focus was entirely on one thing: the ornate chest sitting atop the headmaster\'s mahogany desk.

"This is it," Lucan whispered to himself, the words slipping out before he could catch them. He approached the chest cautiously, his footsteps almost silent against the richly carpeted floor.

Maris hovered nearby, her expression a mix of awe and anxiety. "Are you sure this is safe?" she asked, her voice betraying her concern.

Lucan didn\'t answer. His mind was fully engaged in the task at hand as he extended a hand towards the chest. The lid, carved with intricate symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light, seemed to pulse with a life of its own. He hesitated for a moment, taking a breath before slowly lifting the lid. Inside, lying atop a velvet lining, was the fourth map piece—a fragment of parchment.

Its edges were frayed, and the ink had faded in places, but the markings were unmistakably clear.

Before his fingers could make contact with the parchment, a violent burst of magic exploded from the chest, sending a shockwave through the room. Lucan was thrown back, slamming into a bookshelf with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Maris cried out in alarm, rushing to his side as the room settled into an uneasy silence.

"Lucan-sama!" she exclaimed, her hands already glowing with the soft, golden light of healing magic as she knelt beside him. "Are you alright?"

Lucan gritted his teeth, pushing past the pain as he forced himself to stand. "I\'m fine," he muttered, brushing off her attempts to help. "It\'s just a ward—a trap to protect the map piece."

Maris frowned, her concern deepening as she scanned the room for any further threats. "This is too dangerous. We should leave before—"

"No," Lucan interrupted, his voice hard and unyielding. "We\'re too close. I won\'t let this slip through my fingers."

Maris hesitated, clearly torn between her desire to protect Lucan and her fear of what might happen next. She bit her lip, glancing between the chest and Lucan. "Alright," she finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper, "but please, be careful."

Lucan nodded, his gaze returning to the chest. The initial blast had been strong, but he knew it was just the first layer of protection. There would be more—layers of enchantments meant to deter even the most skilled of thieves. But Lucan had been preparing for this. He had spent weeks studying wards, barriers, and every type of protective spell known. He was ready.

He began to dismantle the ward, muttering incantations under his breath. His hands moved in precise, deliberate patterns as he unraveled the spell\'s intricate layers. The air around him crackled with energy, the magic resisting his efforts with every inch of progress. But Lucan pressed on.

As Lucan worked, Maris watched in silence, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and admiration. She had always known Lucan was powerful, but seeing him in action—seeing the way he commanded the magic with such confidence and skill—left her in awe. There was something almost mesmerizing about the way he moved, his focus so intense that it seemed to draw the very air around him into his orbit.

Her eyes lingered on his face, tracing the hard lines of his jaw and the set of his mouth, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through her chest.

A sudden snap of energy jolted her back to reality. The room darkened briefly as a wave of magic surged out from the chest, lashing out like a living creature. Lucan barely had time to react, throwing up a barrier just in time to deflect the worst of the blast. Even so, the force of it knocked him back a step, his feet skidding against the floor.

Maris gasped, "Lucan-sama!"

"I\'m fine," he ground out, though the strain was evident in his voice. "Just...another layer. I expected this." His words were more for his own reassurance than hers.

Lucan resumed his work. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, the air thick with the potential for disaster. Lucan could feel the ward\'s power fighting against him, each layer more complex and dangerous than the last. His hands began to shake from the effort, sweat beading on his brow as he focused all his energy on dismantling the spell without triggering another trap.

Finally, with a final, decisive gesture, Lucan broke through the last of the ward\'s defenses. The chest shuddered as the magic within it dissipated, leaving the fourth map piece unprotected.

Lucan exhaled, the tension leaving his body in a rush. His legs almost gave out beneath him as the adrenaline that had been keeping him going began to fade. But he kept himself upright through sheer force of will, his eyes locked on the parchment that lay before him. With careful, deliberate movements, he reached out and took the fragment. This time, there was no resistance.

His fingers closed around the ancient parchment, and he carefully lifted it from the chest. For a moment, he simply stared at it.

"We did it," Maris whispered, stepping closer to him. "You did it, Lucan-sama."

Lucan nodded, but he didn\'t allow himself to relax. This was just the fourth piece. There were still three more to find before he could even begin to think about the Eye of Obsidian\'s exact location.

As if sensing his thoughts, Maris placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle. "Lucan-sama, I want to be together. Whatever comes next, I want to face it with you," she said softly.

Lucan looked at her, her words pulling him back from the brink of his thoughts. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he nodded.

"Let\'s get out of here first," he said, tucking the map piece safely inside his cloak. "Before the headmaster returns."

Maris nodded, stepping back to give him the space he needed. She could sense the urgency in his movements, the way his mind was already racing ahead to what needed to be done next. Without another word, she followed him as they made their way out of the office, slipping back into the quiet, shadowed corridors of the academy.