Professor Whitaker gazed at the myriad spells surging towards her with a flat expression on her face.
Her gaze then shifted to the undead creatures—skeletal soldiers and zombies—lunging at her with primal hunger.
But she remained unfazed throughout it all.
Throughout her five hundred years of life, she had seen much. She had made friends and lost them, found love and warmth, endured grief and heartbreak.
However, through it all… one thing had always been a constant.
Magic.
It had been a long, long time since she'd gone all out. But this time it was different. This time, she was fighting for something far bigger than her—for the future of Saratoga, for the Empire itself.
When the lives of those children depended on her… how could she not rise up to the occasion?
Her being was filled with strength, and her heart enveloped by a mantle of valor. She felt her magic surge, amplified many times over, now that she had people to protect.
This was no time for fear and nervousness.
