The grand auditorium of the Chaos Academy was a marvel of architectural dominance.

At the center of the room sat a long, polished wooden table where the board of professors waited.

​Suddenly, the heavy doors at the rear of the hall swung open with a sound like a thunderclap.

​"His Imperial Majesty, the Dragon Emperor, Adonis Kingsbane, arrives!" the herald’s voice echoed with magic.

​The entire hall rose as one, a wave of bodies bowing in perfect, terrifying unison.

Step. Step. Step.

Adonis walked down the center aisle, his robe of chaotic mist trailing behind him like a living shadow.

Behind him walked four of the most powerful mages of empire who could level cities, yet they followed him with the posture of subordinates.

​Adonis took his seat at the center of the long table with an indifference that was more chilling than any intimidation.

​"Let the interviews begin. This Empire has no room for mediocrity. If you waste my time, do not expect to leave this hall with your pride intact."

​The first candidate was a man from the fallen Sareth Kingdom, a veteran mage with silver hair and a staff made of wyvern bone.

He looked confident as he stepped forward, bowing deeply.

​"Your Majesty, I am Malakor of the Fifth Circle. I have spent forty years perfecting the art of Flame-Constructs. I can summon an army of fire-golems in a matter of seconds."

​Adonis stared at him, his expression unchanging. "Demonstrate."

​"#&%#&@&#@&℅π" Malakor chanted a complex incantation, and the air around him erupted into twelve towering golems of white-hot flame. The heat was so intense that the nearby students shielded their eyes.

The professors beside Adonis nodded in approval, whispered to one another.

​"Lets see..."

​With a mere twitch of his finger, a twister of chaotic energy swept the floor.

The fire-golems didn’t just extinguish; they turned into puffs of harmless steam instantly.

Malakor gasped, his staff cracking in his hand.

Adonis said coldly,

​"Your foundation is brittle. You rely on the ambient ether rather than your own core. If a localized void were to open, you would be useless. 65 out of 100. You may teach the third-year novices, but you will not touch the elite classes. Next."

​The day dragged on.

A Sky Serpent mage demonstrated wind manipulation that could create vacuums, earning a 78.

A necromancer from the southern wastes attempted to impress Adonis with soul-shackling, but his control slipped under his gaze, earning him a 40 and a swift removal from the premises.

​He soon became bored. "Is there no one in this continent who understands the soul of the elements?"

​"The final candidate: Isabella Frostbite."

​The name hit the air like a shard of ice. For the first time that day, Adonis’s hand stopped tapping.

A memory of amusement, or perhaps a long-buried spark, crossed his violet eyes before his face of imperial indifference returned.

​Isabella made her entrance.

​She didn’t walk with the frantic nerves of the others. Her aqua-blue hair was pinned up elegantly, revealing the sharp, noble line of her neck.

She wore robes of deep cerulean that clung to her mature, curvaceous figure, yet her presence was so freezing that any thoughts of lust were instantly killed by the chill.

​She stopped ten paces from the table and stood perfectly straight. She didn’t bow as low as the others. She gave a curt, professional nod, her gaze meeting Adonis’s without a hint of recognition.

It was as if she were standing before a total stranger, a figure of authority to be respected, but never known.

​Adonis smirked, his eyes narrowing. He appreciated the game.

"Isabella Frostbite. Your records state you were a professor at the Royal Academy of Fernis Kingdom before the unification. Why have you come to Dragonia?"

Isabella replied:

​"The Royal Academy was a cage for those who feared the dark. I heard the Dragon Emperor was building a sanctuary for those who wish to master it. I am here to see if the rumors of your ’Chaos’ are substantiated by actual intellect, or if it is merely brute force."

​The professors gasped at her boldness, but Adonis laughed.

​"Intellect, then?" Adonis leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand. "Tell me, Professor. How would you explain the divergence between Absolute Zero and the Void-Freeze? Most scholars claim they are the same."

​Isabella didn’t hesitate to answer, "Most scholars are fools. Absolute Zero is the cessation of molecular movement within a physical medium. Void-Freeze is the extraction of the concept of heat itself from the space-time fabric. One stops the body; the other erases the possibility of warmth. To teach the latter, one must be prepared to lose their own heartbeat for a fraction of a second."

​Adonis’s smile widened, "An interrogation of the soul. Very well. Enough talk. Demonstrate your strongest Magic Art. Show me why I should allow you to shape the minds of my promising subjects."

​Isabella closed her eyes. She didn’t chant. She didn’t use a staff. She simply raised her arms, and the temperature in the auditorium plummeted.

The glass ceiling began to frost over, and the breath of every spectator turned into visible mist.

​"Thousands Ice Lotus," she whispered.

​In an instant, the air crystallized.

Thousands of delicate, translucent lotuses made of pure, high-density ice bloomed in the air, filling the entire auditorium.

Each petal was sharp enough to slice through dragon hide, yet they moved with the grace of falling snow.

The lotuses began to spin, creating a beautiful, terrifying vortex of frozen death that circled the hall, avoiding the students with pinpoint accuracy.

​The professors beside Adonis scrambled back, their own protective barriers humming as they tried to ward off the sheer cold.

They had never seen such finesse.

Most ice mages were blunt instruments, but Isabella was a surgeon of the cold.

one professor whispered in awe:

​"Look at the control! She’s maintaining a thousand individual mana-signatures simultaneously! This shouldn’t be possible for a human!"

Snap!

​Isabella snapped her fingers, and the lotuses shattered into a million diamond-like shards that vanished before they touched the floor.

The temperature returned to normal, leaving the room in a stunned silence.

​Isabella stood there, her chest rising and falling slightly, her gaze still fixed on Adonis.

She didn’t ask for a grade. She didn’t beg for approval.

​Adonis sat in silence for a long moment, the violet light in his eyes dancing. He looked at her as if he were seeing the academy library again, the nights they spent debating the very theory she had just demonstrated.

​"Your technique is... adequate," Adonis said, his voice flat, though the slight curve of his lips betrayed his satisfaction.

"Your control is superior to any I have seen today, but your output lacks the chaotic instability I require for the elite ranks."

​Isabella’s eyes flashed with a spark of the old fury, but she kept her composure.

"Is that so, Your Majesty?"

​"Go outside and wait with the others. I will make my final decision shortly." Adonis commanded, waving his hand dismissively.

​Isabella gave another curt nod, turned on her heel, and walked out of the hall with her head held high.

​