Flakey exhaled slowly, suppressing the irritation bubbling within him. Keep aside his insulting words against a teacher—just for a second. He still needed answers.
"Mr. Adlet, if I'm not mistaken, this should be your first class?" Flakey asked.
"Yes," Adlet replied without hesitation.
Flakey's eyes narrowed. Then how…?
"Then how is it that you already possess two rit points—along with a Gold and a Silver Pass from the two Head Departnts?"
A student—one who had just begun his classes—possessing more privileges than a teacher? It was unheard of.
Adlet's lips curled into a wide, knowing smile.
"That information will cost you three rit points."
The mont Adlet muttered those words with a smile, Flakey's expression darkened instantly.
A vein popped on his forehead, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to smack that smug face right then and there.
But then, his gaze flickered back to the Silver Pass of the Maintenance Departnt resting on Adlet's ID card.
And just like that, his frustration was swallowed by hesitation.
He couldn't summon the courage.
'The Frenzied Mage, Frederick.'
The mont the image of that crazy old man surfaced in Flakey's mind, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.
His body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to stay far, far away from anything remotely connected to that lunatic.
He still rembered—no, felt—the pain of that day.
The day Frederick had beaten him black and blue for what had been, in Flakey's mind, nothing more than a harmless prank that he played on a student favored by him.
But Frederick had not seen it as harmless.
And the way he had countered Flakey's Supernatural Power was sothing that still haunted him.
First, the old man had deliberately entered the Dream Realm—an act that, in itself, was insane.
Mages with an strong mind like him could easily resist being pulled into Dreaming, but Frederick had walked in willingly, as if daring Flakey to trap him.
Then, as if that wasn't enough, he had let one of his familiars take control of his physical body.
That was where the nightmare had begun.
While Flakey had tried to dominate the Dream Realm, Frederick had turned the tables completely.
Not only had he beaten Flakey senseless within the dream, but while Flakey's mind was trapped, his physical body had also been subjected to a brutal beating—his own body suffering the sa tornt as his mind.
It had been hell.
For Flakey, the old man's actions were nothing short of suicidal madness.
Familiars were tied to their owners, yes—but that did not an they were fully loyal.
If a familiar betrayed its master during possession, the owner would completely lose control over their body. And yet, Frederick had willingly taken that kind of risk—just to teach Flakey a lesson.
From that day forward, Flakey had developed a deep, unshakable PTSD from that lunatic mage.
He avoided anything associated with Frederick—the places he frequented, the students he favored.
Because if there was one thing Flakey had learned from that encounter, it was this:
Never provoke the Frenzied Mage.
'Now that I think about it…' Flakey's eyes narrowed slightly as a thought surfaced in his mind.
'I did hear so rumors in the staff room—that he was returning to teaching. Don't tell it's because of this boy.'
A flicker of unease passed through him, but he quickly masked it.
He had no intention of dwelling on the implications.
Without hesitation, a small magic circle ford above Adlet's ID card, glowing faintly as the number of rit Points increased—from two to four.
"There is no need for such information, and it is already getting late," Flakey said, his tone dismissive as he handed the ID card back to Ashok.
The mont Ashok took the card—
SNAP!
Flakey snapped his fingers, and instantly, a magic circle materialized beneath the students' feet.
Before they could react, the spell activated, and in the blink of an eye—
They were back in the classroom.
The sudden shift left many montarily disoriented, so stumbling slightly as they adjusted to their surroundings.
None had even taken their seats yet when Flakey's voice rang out once more.
"Everyone, don't forget the rules of the class when we will et next week! I am pretty scary you know."
His tone was lighthearted,
"Lastly, Don't forget to miss —the Great Teacher Flakey! BYE-BYE!"
And with that, he vanished, leaving behind a room full of students who hadn't even had the chance to sit down after their abrupt return.
Ashok, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, made his way toward the back gate of the classroom once more.
His steps were unhurried, his expression unreadable—until sothing caught his attention.
Before him, an interesting sight unfolded.
Lyssa, who had been standing beside Lilia, suddenly moved to exit the classroom.
She did not spare Lilia a single glance, her posture rigid, her intent clear.
Lilia, however, was quick to react.
She reached out, attempting to stop Lyssa—but the mont her hand neared, Lyssa slapped it away with sharp precision.
"Don't you dare touch ."
Her voice was cold, edged with finality.
Ashok's smirk deepened, amusent flickering in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold.
"The loyal dog broke the leash."
His words were laced with mockery, spoken just as Lyssa passed by him and reached for the gate.
And because of his overwhelming charisma, his voice carried effortlessly—reaching every corner of the classroom.
The reaction was imdiate.
Every student turned, their attention snapping toward him, their curiosity piqued by the his words.
Ashok could feel Lilia's glare burning into him, her eyes filled with undiluted hatred.
anwhile, Lyssa—who had been re seconds away from stepping out—froze.
Her foot, poised to cross the threshold, halted.
Slowly, she turned, her gaze locking onto Ashok.
Her cold eyes bore into him, sharp and calculating.
"You knew."
It was not a question.
It was a statent.
Ashok did not respond to Lyssa's words. He did not acknowledge her cold gaze, nor did he offer any explanation.
Instead, he simply continued walking, his steps steady, his posture relaxed, as if the entire exchange was beneath his concern.
As he approached the exit, where Lyssa still stood at the threshold, she instinctively moved aside, making way for him without hesitation.
Without sparing her a glance, Ashok stepped past her and left the classroom, his silence more telling than any answer he could have given.
The mont he was gone, murmurs began to spread among the students.
Confusion lingered in the air—many had no idea what had just transpired.
But among the sharper minds in the room, sothing was becoming increasingly clear.
The distance between Lilia and Lyssa was now visible—undeniable.
Everyone rembered how they had been inseparable since the first day.
They had always moved together, always stood side by side. And yet, now—Lyssa had walked away, leaving Lilia alone.
Without sparing a single glance at the watching students, Lyssa exited the classroom, her posture unwavering, her expression unreadable.
Lilia, however, remained behind.
And that was all it took for the whispers to begin.
"Don't tell Adlet broke their friendship."
"What a scum!"
"Breaking the bond between two friends just because they fought him yesterday?"
The murmurs grew louder, and soon, sympathy flooded toward Lilia.
Several students—most of them who were male—stepped forward, offering words of comfort to Lilia, their concern evident as they offered to beco her friends.
And just like that, Ashok had been cast as the villain in everyone's mind.
Even though, this ti—he had done absolutely nothing.
Roan observed the scene before him, his gaze sharp as he watched the students flock around Lilia, offering her words of comfort and sympathy.
'Do those eyes—eyes that burned with hatred just seconds ago—really need to be consoled?' he thought, his expression unreadable.
'Is everyone in the Aether Class truly blind to the mask she wears? Or are they simply pretending not to see it?'
The sheer ignorance of it all made his stomach churn.
'Disgusting.'
Isolde's thoughts mirrored Roan's own as she cast a disdainful glance at the group of males eagerly surrounding Lilia, their concern misplaced, their judgnt clouded.
anwhile, in the shadows of the classroom, Elara was already at work.
She moved with quiet efficiency, subtly communicating with her lackeys, ensuring that rumors against Adlet spread even further.
And as the whispers grew, Ashok—who was calmly planning the rest of his day—remained completely unaware that his reputation was being dragged through the dirt as he gained three new titles.
Enemy of Friendship! Fiend! Enemy of Won!
The titles were slowly gaining traction, weaving their way through the class like wildfire.
But even if Ashok had been present to witness it, the outco would have hardly been different.
Enemy of Friendship? Fiend?
Those were labels he could accept without hesitation, without so much as a blink.
As for Enemy of Won—
He would have straight-up responded, "Kids with Flat boards don't have the right to call themselves won."
Elara, unknowingly, had just saved her own pride from being utterly shattered.
Ashok followed his schedule with unwavering precision, moving through his day with the sa effortless confidence that had unsettled his classmates.
Right after the class it began with the costliest breakfast available, a lavish spread accompanied by Spirit Wine, all consud under the watchful, judgntal eyes of the students hidden behind the trees.
Yet, if their stares bothered him, he showed no sign of it only focusing on the al.
After finishing his al, he changed into a tracksuit, grabbed his protein shake, and made his way to the roof.
There, beneath the scorching noon sun, he practiced his External Art for one hour, ending his training resulting in sore muscles and completely drenched in sweat.
Once his training session ended, he took a brief rest before heading toward the Private Training Area.
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