The next morning greeted me with the sound of something breaking.
Which, in this place, meant: business as usual.
I stepped out onto the Class C training grounds and immediately ducked as a metal disc flew past my head, spun midair, and embedded itself into the dummy behind me with a resounding thunk.
Leo stood frozen a few meters away, holding a jagged, rune-etched boomerang with guilt written all over his soul.
"...It was supposed to turn left," he muttered.
I sighed. "You just tried to assassinate your professor."
"I—!"
"Which means you failed even at that."
His shoulders slumped. "It's harder than it looks…"
Julien chuckled nearby. "To be fair, Professor, that boomerang has a kill ratio of zero. Unless you count Leo's dignity."
"I stopped counting that after day one," I said.
Felix arrived late, panting and disheveled, still carrying his practice gear. His sword was missing the hilt, and his greaves were on the wrong legs.
