[The Third Son - Level 13 Illusionist]
The Illusionist had been spared a direct hit from her arrow; having wisely stayed away from both the illusion, and the magical anchor that maintained it, but that hadn't spared him from the backlash of a spell forcibly disrupted. Plain brown robes turned red hot sizzled against pale skin, whilst his unkempt black hair had caught alight. A hurried gesture summoned a miniature rain-cloud above his head, extinguishing the flames at the cost of leaving him drenched.
"Buddhist monk my ass," Emma laughed, committing to memory the bedraggled state of her opponent. "Drowned rat suits you much better as a look."
She drew a second arrow, this one powered by only a tenth of her anima. That was plenty to destroy the anchor from before, but she'd overcharged her first shot to sell her deception; it would have been suspicious to use anything weaker, if she thought she was facing a Nascent Soul.
"Can't we talk about this?" The Illusionist begged, suddenly finding himself in a complete reversal of fortune.
Hands of clay erupted from beneath him by way of reply, holding his ankles in place as Emma fired. Suddenly unable to dodge, the Third Son could only fall backwards, letting the arrow sail overhead as he landed on the floor, but Emma was both swift and unyielding, and her next arrow proved beyond his ability to avoid.
[100 EXP gained.]
"Maybe if you'd been more merciful when pretending to hold the advantage, we'd have had something worth talking about." Emma rebuked his dead body, silenced forever by an arrow through the throat.
[Eighth floor complete!
Soul fragment unstable, Weapon Enhancement: No Pal of Mine failed to activate.
Additional 100 EXP awarded as compensation.]
A long overdue portal opened above his body, revealing a library that Emma hadn't thought about for a good while now.
[The ninth floor contains the final stage of your trial.
[This was the first room of Scholomance to be built. A single room was all that was needed, back then, to gather and store the sum total of our magical knowledge. This is where we committed to accessibility, to the ideal that every man, woman and child with talent should be given a chance to excel. Everything else came afterwards, built layer by layer until the clouds prostrated beneath us, but this, more than anywhere else, is where the Empire began.
Normally, this room is the setting for floor twenty-nine, the final trial to earn the title of Master, under the direct supervision of a council of Masters. Normally, a Magus tests an aspirant aiming to become a Practitioner, and a Master tests a Practitioner seeking to become a Magus, both these tests occurring on less prestigious ground. These are not normal times, and timing is important; for this reason alone, you shall be tested here, by your own choice of examiner from the Empire's founders.]
Emma was alone in the vast room, until she wasn't.
"This room exists beyond flood and drought; mana flows here in abundance and always will."
A pale young girl spoke from atop a throne of gold, clad in midnight black robes the shade of her hair and a pointed hat; her gleaming red eye peering out from beneath the brim to take Emma's measure.
[Overmind, The First Magus - Level 777]
"This room exists beyond space and time; we are always here, and always shall be."
A familiar face this time, wearing a white dress affixed with a dozen sundials, alongside jade bracelets upon her wrists and ankles; bright blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and tanned skin all easily visible as she lounged upon a throne of brass.
[Paradox, Queen of Hours - Level ∞]
"This room exists beyond life and death; we are alive here, and even Heaven cannot claim otherwise."
The final figure looked like a slightly older Emma, if she were to attend formal meetings wearing a plain, rumpled white nightgown; her long white hair trailing down to the floor of her silver throne. Frankly, it looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and whilst it wasn't the look Emma had expected of her famous ancestor, upon second thoughts, she had to admit it fit what she'd been told in terms of personality.
[Anathema, Chaos God - SYSTEM ADMIN]
"Now, who shall oversee your final test?"