'Is he really still holding a grudge?' Azel thought, watching Reinhardt from across the cafeteria.

The Protagonist's sharp eyes and the way he clenched his fists gave away his intent.

Azel didn't blame him.

If someone had broken almost every bone in his body and left him for dead, he would harbor hate too.

It was natural.

However what happened to the honorable duels? How did hitting him with food settle it

Besides… wasn't it because of him that Reinhardt awakened faster? Shouldn't there be at least a thank you buried under all that anger?

Azel sighed and stood up slowly.

The wooden chair scraped against the tiled floor, making several students glance his way.

Azel didn't know Reinhardt did it but he had gathered a few goons, the kind of boys who acted tough because they stood behind someone stronger.

Your average high school bullies.

One of them held a pie like it was a loaded weapon.

Another gripped a steaming bowl of soup with a grin that promised nothing good.

'Anytime now…' Azel thought, his patience wearing thin.

Why did these kinds of people always like showing up slowly, like it was some kind of action movie?

If the girls were going to come… they had better start coming already.

His silent wish was granted.

The cafeteria went dead silent when one of Reinhardt's boys suddenly dropped his food and clawed at his throat.

His face turned pale, veins bulging at his neck.

"Ahhh… Ahhh… My blood! MY BLOOOOOODDDDDDDD!" the boy screamed.

Azel blinked.

That was… unexpected.

Why was this guy shouting about blood when he hadn't even been cut?

There was no blood spilled, no wound… no nothing. Yet the kid's panic was real.

He stumbled and collapsed to the ground, frothing at the mouth before passing out.

"The Disciplinary Committee is here!"

Azel let out a long sigh of relief.

About time.

If they had been a few minutes later, this cafeteria would've turned into a full-blown battlefield.

But Reinhardt wasn't finished.

No, the protagonist wouldn't just sit quietly and accept being humiliated. With a sneer, Reinhardt hurled the pie toward Azel's face.

'Oh hey, this is a good chance to test the reversal rune,' Azel thought.

His hand twitched toward his pocket, itching to pull out his pen and draw.

But speed was the issue.

Could he carve it fast enough and even after that, would it activate on time?

He never got the chance.

"Stop."

The word carried weight.

The pie froze in midair, hanging like it had slammed into invisible glass.

"Reverse."

The pie shot backward like an arrow, smacking Reinhardt full in the face.

Cream and fruit exploded against his cheeks. The proud protagonist tripped on the slippery mess and fell flat on his back.

Azel looked around. All around him, students were being forced to kneel with their hands behind their backs, like criminals.

The work of the Disciplinary Committee.

The one who had just used Voice Magic, which was a special kind of magic was already dragging Reinhardt away like he was nothing more than a misbehaving child.

"Hehe, afternoon Boss."

Azel turned his head.

Charlotte stood beside him, dressed in the crisp black uniform of the Committee.

Her grin was wide, smug even, as though she had been waiting for this moment.

"We handled the situation pretty quickly, don't you think?" she said cheerfully.

"You could have come five minutes earlier," Azel deadpanned.

Charlotte puffed her cheeks and shrugged. "Well, we were all stuck in a project, so…"

Azel narrowed his eyes.

A project?

Right.

That explained nothing.

He looked at her and then at the other committee members, including Eliana.

None of these students were exactly… bright when it came to academics.

So how in the world did they land these positions?

Did they bribe Dorian, the principal? Or was the plot trying to favor them?

"Well, I'll see you later, Boss," Charlotte said lightly. She saluted with two fingers and turned away, dragging the fainted boy… the one who had been screaming about blood toward the group of detained students.

Azel could only shake his head.

It was Illusion magic, no doubt. Whatever that boy had seen, only Charlotte knew.

When the noise died down, Azel turned back to his table.

Sybil was still sitting there, chewing her food like nothing had happened.

Plates stacked in front of her like trophies of victory.

The chaos hadn't touched her appetite in the slightest.

Flare, however, was another story.

A stray cake had splattered across her face. Cream and crumbs clung to her cheeks, dripping down her chin.

She looked… ridiculous.

Azel bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. Her wide eyes, frozen in shock, only made it funnier.

"At least that fucking committee is good for something," Sybil said casually, stuffing another dumpling into her mouth. "I can't believe they almost ruined lunch."

Azel gave her a flat look.

Almost ruined lunch? She was the main culprit!

More than half of the food hurled through the air had been redirected by her Wind magic.

'Unbelievable,' he thought.

Still, he pulled out a handkerchief, one Anya had given it to him this morning, neatly folded with a faint perfume scent and extended it toward Flare.

"Here," he said. "Wipe your face."

But Flare didn't move.

She didn't take the handkerchief.

She didn't even speak.

She only stood up slowly, her hands gripping her paper tightly.

Without a word, she turned and walked out of the cafeteria, cake still dripping down her cheek.

Azel frowned.

'Well, that was rude…' he thought.

Was there something wrong? He folded his handkerchief and held it back, or did she have something important to handle.

Nevertheless he sat down, he hadn't finished his lunch after all.

Sybil slurped her soup noisily, snapping him back to reality. "Hey, Boss, pass me that bread."

Azel exhaled, rubbing his temple then he passed the woman the bread, she truly had an appetite.

'Should I pack it as takeaway for her?' Azel thought, looking at her remaining dishes she had left behind.

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