Not bothering to clean up my hair and unwrinkle my collared shirt, I stretched out my arms above my head, interlocking my hands, and walked toward the door.
It felt as if my days were either extremely busy or boring, with no middle ground.
One day, I was fighting the old hero and his army of over a hundred people, and in the next moment, I was watching a fireworks show with the new hero.
Similar to a high school, Glaive held classes or practical training sessions from eight in the morning to three in the afternoon, with lunch breaks and passing periods scattered in between.
It was nice to return to an ordered life after all I had been through.
Peeking my head out of my cracked-open door, I glanced around the empty second floor for a moment before descending down the cylinder-shaped staircase.
As I reached the halfway step between the second and first floor, I spotted a male figure resting on one of the leather couches below, his eyes closed.
