"Michael… I'm sorry." Rudy said, his head lowered, "because of me—"

"Don't worry about it," Michael replied, nudging him with his elbow softly, "let's focus on the next class for now—I'll take you to the infirmary after."

Rudy looked like he wanted to object, but he merely nodded in response—accepting his friend's concern.

Meanwhile, Michael's gaze was on Melody's back as she stormed away, her words ringing in his mind. While he would admit that he got a little out of control earlier, it wasn't without reason.

Just remembering the wounds upon Rudy's body was enough to make him feel sick. If even the fabric rubbing against them was painful, he could only imagine what it would be like to receive a slap against it.

Of course Braydon couldn't have known about Rudy's wounds, and if he did, he probably wouldn't have been so blatant by attacking them directly. There were plenty of other ways to do so—ways that would avoid suspicion.

Even so, he could not contain his anger. Rudy was his first friend, a fact that had only occurred to him after this incident, surprising even himself.

Though they had only known each other for less than a day—Michael felt quite close to the guy. Not to mention they were both victims of the strange happenings around the time the mana spring's dried up.

So when he saw his friend in pain, he was instantly provoked.

She's right… Getting angry will only leave me vulnerable, he thought silently, walking solemnly behind the crowd of first-years.

But Michael held no remorse for his actions. His mother would be disappointed if he hadn't stuck up for his friend—of this he was certain.

The group trudged through the hallways like a mindless school of fish, eventually reaching the opposite end of the castle where a large set of doors led outside.

Michael recognized the place right away, it was the open area outside his window—but it seemed different. Where there was once only an open field, now was a fenced off area around a hundred feet in length and width.

On the end closest to the castle, four mannequin-like figures stood sentinel, their bodies crudely made. However, there seemed to be a layer of protection around them—forming prismatic hexagons that reflected the light of the morning sun.

"Hurry along soldiers!" An voice filled with authority called out, whipping the first-years into action.

Soldiers?

His gaze moved to the lone figure within the enclosure, surprised to see a woman dressed in a tight-fitting bodysuit. It was sleek and black, clinging to every inch of her body like a second skin.

Michael felt his cheeks redden at the sight, not knowing where to look. Each curve was on display, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"By dose is bleeding…" Rudy said, pinching his nose, but his eyes remained glued to the woman.

It wasn't just him, many of the teens within the class began to mutter among themselves, casting obvious gazes towards the center of the enclosure.

Michael felt a glare burning into the side of his face, but he didn't need to turn to know who it was. Instead, he pointed towards the second floor of the castle and nudged Rudy, "hey, there's our dorm…"

"I don't give a shit," Rudy replied, still pinching his nose tightly to stem the bleeding.

"MOVE, SOLDIERS!" the woman shouted, her voice echoing off the castle walls, startling the first-years. It was as if an explosion had gone off in their minds, dispersing any thoughts they had before.

Like a herd of sheep, the students filed into the partitioned area, taking up positions in front of who they could only assume was the professor for the combat class.

The woman stood with her hands on her hips, legs slightly apart. Her eyes scanned the row of students, evaluating them with an impassive expression, giving nothing away.

"I am Professor Quinn, your combat instructor," she stated succinctly. "It is my job to turn your pathetic, weak bodies into something useful."

Eh? That seems a little harsh, Michael thought, though not entirely untrue…

"For many of you, this class will be hell—for others…" She paused, her brown eyes scanning the students, "It will be even worse than hell."

Michael noticed her eyes were locked onto Melody as she said this, causing him to raise an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if it was intentional, but remembering the girl's state after he had dragged her on that run last night, he wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"Um, professor… Do we not cast spells in combat class?" Lilly raised her hand, her tone unsure.

"Spells?" Professor Quinn raised an eyebrow, her brown eyes narrowing as they swept over Lilly's small, petite frame. "Sure, we'll cast some spells…" she added after a moment, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"But not yet. First, you need some strength and conditioning," she announced. "Now, ten laps of the field—those of you who are passed by me will do an additional ten!"

Before anyone could react, Professor Quinn took a ready stance and broke into a run, heading toward the area where the mannequins were.

Many of the boys were too busy watching the curves bounce with each stride, too enamored with the sight to react to the professor's words.

"Shit, let's go." Michael grabbed Rudy by the arm and followed after her, realizing the danger of failing. While the area wasn't exactly large, ten laps still added up to over four thousand feet.

Having to do this twice would be quite troublesome.

The duo were the first to follow behind the professor. Their actions seemed to trigger a domino effect as the other first-years began to realize they should start running.

Yet the professor was too fast. Even Rudy and Michael, who hadn't been far behind the woman to begin with, watched as she slowly pulled ahead, getting faster and faster with each lap.

Not even two laps in, Professor Quinn surged past the student at the back—Melody Winterborne. She was already huffing and puffing, clearly not fit enough to keep up.

"Damn it!" she cried out in frustration.

In the next moment, she waved her left hand—a brilliant orange mana circle appearing from her palm. Winds began to rattle the wooden fence, sending her hair into a frenzy.

"Ventus… Accelerate!" she shouted.

Melody's body shot forward, the wind at her back as she flew—overtaking the professor in an instant and drawing gasps of shock from the other students.

Oh man… What has she done? Michael sighed inwardly, watching the professor's eyes narrow.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.