The Ambush at the Southern Edge

Four days passed in a whirlwind of experiments and simulations. Evan hadn't taken on any missions during this time, his focus entirely on refining the Ember Engine. Weeks of hard work had paid off; his contribution coin total had grown significantly, leaving him with enough to sustain himself for weeks and even rent or purchase items for further research. With no urgent need for more coins, he dedicated every waking moment to his experiments.

During this time, an idea had taken shape: what if the Ember Engine didn't feed its output directly into Flame Spark? Instead, what if it split its pulse into two separate flows? One could handle the elements of combustion, while the other could deal with the byproducts—the ash, smoke, and embers.

This division could allow for more controlled magic, potentially unlocking new forms of combat and utility. It was a revolutionary concept in Evan's mind, one born from the relentless study and experimentation he had endured in the past weeks.

Evan understood that manipulating the behavior of a nucleus directly was considered impossible for most. Nuclei were tied to an apprentice's inherent magical affinity and growth, influenced by their experiences and innate talents. For centuries, magicians worked within the constraints provided by their nuclei, never altering its base behavior. Yet, Evan wasn't most magicians.

The Ember Engine he had created was not an inherent part of his nucleus; it was an artificial construct, meticulously crafted by him. It had taken hundreds of thousands of simulated rune combinations to bring it to life. This achievement allowed Evan to bypass traditional limitations. While others relied on their nucleus's alignment, Evan had constructed a mechanical system capable of evolving alongside him, shaped entirely by his own ingenuity.

This gave him the unprecedented ability to split his nucleus's pulse into separate outputs. It was the culmination of endless hours of mapping runes, simulating their effects, and painstakingly reconstructing combinations. The results were transformative.

"Split outputs…" Evan murmured, staring at his notebook. He had outlined the potential uses of two distinct flows: one dedicated to feeding combustion elements into Flame Spark and another to handle the byproducts—smoke, ash, and embers.

His first tests were promising, though not without flaws. By directing the secondary flow into Flame Spark, Evan successfully conjured a dense sphere of swirling smoke and ash. The sphere was unstable, emitting an acrid smell that quickly filled his tent, causing him to cough as he waved the smoke away.

"This isn't going to work here," Evan muttered, dispelling the sphere with a frustrated motion. The confines of his tent were stifling, the air heavy with the remnants of his experiments. He needed space to test further.

Evan decided it was time for a break. Stepping out into the crisp evening air, he felt an immediate sense of relief. He stretched, feeling the tension of days spent hunched over notebooks and in deep concentration. Grabbing his towel, he headed to the communal bathing area, hoping a hot bath would clear his mind.

Freshly bathed and reinvigorated, Evan set out for a secluded part of the camp's southern edge, far from prying eyes. This was where beginners often trained, away from the hustle and bustle of the more advanced apprentices. As he walked, he became increasingly aware of a faint, persistent sensation—a tingling on the back of his neck. Glancing over his shoulder, Evan caught sight of three familiar figures.

Lareth and his two companions. The same trio who had challenged him before.

They didn't bother hiding their presence, stepping into view as Evan stopped at the edge of a clearing. Lareth's expression was one of smug satisfaction, his two lackeys standing on either side with equally menacing grins.

"So," Lareth began, his tone mocking, "you think you can humiliate me in front of the whole camp and then just hide away? No more running, Evan. This time, there's nowhere to go."

Evan said nothing, his gaze flicking between the three as they spread out, cutting off potential escape routes. Lareth's tone was filled with bitterness, his bruised ego clearly still stinging from their last encounter.

"You got lucky last time," Lareth continued, taking a step forward. "But here, now? No crowd, no witnesses. Just us."

Evan's mind raced. He analyzed the terrain around him, noting the lack of cover and the open space that offered little in terms of defensive positioning. His nucleus pulsed faintly as he activated simulate, mapping the clearing in his mind and assessing possible escape routes.

The trio huddled momentarily, their voices low as they whispered among themselves. Lareth's gaze flicked toward Evan repeatedly, his grin widening with each glance.

Evan felt his fists tighten as he weighed his options. His boots could give him the speed to outrun them, but doing so might only embolden them further. If he fled now, this wouldn't be the end of it. Lareth and his cronies would keep coming, each time more determined to prove their dominance.

The thought of running left a bitter taste in Evan's mouth. He had spent weeks honing his magic, refining the Ember Engine, and pushing himself to new limits. If they wanted to test him again, maybe it was time to show them the kind of magician he was becoming.

Evan stood still, watching as Lareth and his companions whispered amongst themselves. Their positioning was sloppy, their focus entirely on their plan rather than him. His nucleus pulsed faintly, simulate feeding him information about the environment—their spacing, movement, and lack of readiness.

"This is my chance," Evan thought, his heartbeat steady but determined. He wasn't going to let them control the situation.