All eyes were on Azrael.

He pushed himself to his feet, his body a symphony of aches and bruises. The stares of hundreds of students felt like a physical weight. He let out a quiet sigh. 'Looks like I'm in a new mess.'

Silas, still bruised but as energetic as ever, limped over to him with a wide, mocking grin. "Dude, take your girl to the infirmary."

Azrael looked at him, confused. "My girl?" Then his eyes followed Silas's gaze to where Astrid lay on the ground, spitting a small trickle of blood onto the sand. 'He meant her? But why?'

Then he saw her. Selyne. She was still crumpled on the ground where she had collapsed, unconscious.

'Oh, right,' he thought, a wave of secondhand responsibility washing over him. 'He definitely meant her. How could I forget? She passes out every time after showing her potential. That's when Kaelen is supposed to swoop in and carry her off like a princess.'

He looked around. The professors were busy managing the crowd and tending to the more seriously injured. The other students were keeping a very wide, very respectful distance.

'Wait, why isn't a professor taking her? Or even another student?' He looked at her small, still form. 'Well, I don't think this is that much of a mess. It's pretty easy. So, let's get her.'

He moved toward her, his own body protesting with every step. He knelt down in front of her, slipped his arms under her, and, with a grunt of effort, picked her up.

The students in the stands watched, their expressions a mix of awe and romantic speculation.

"How caring," a girl in the front row muttered, clutching her chest. "They look so beautiful together."

A boy beside her scoffed. "Don't be stupid. That girl just took a pint of our blood. You were cursing her a minute ago."

Everyone was seeing a beautiful, heroic sight. Until Azrael fucked it up.

He had intended to lift her in a graceful princess carry.

But as he stood up, his own exhaustion and pain hit him. He stumbled, and his perfect pose devolved into something closer to a clumsy, desperate piggyback.

He ended up with her slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The romantic image shattered. A few students snorted with laughter.

He started walking, his steps unsteady, moving like a drunkard under her unexpected weight.

Just then, Selyne's eyes fluttered open. She took a moment to process the world, which was currently a blurry view of the arena floor from a very strange angle. She saw herself being carried, not like a princess, but like a baby on someone's back.

She looked around. People were staring. And laughing.

Her face turned a furious shade of red. "Azrael, you stupid idiot! What are you doing?!"

He grunted, adjusting her weight. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm carrying you to the infirmary."

"Not like this!" she hissed, her voice a mortified whisper. "Put me down! Everyone is looking!"

"They were looking anyway," he shot back, his own voice tight with pain. "At least this way, my arms won't give out. How much do you eat? You weigh a ton. You're like a hippo in the body of a scrawny chicken."

Smack! Her small fist connected with the back of his head.

"Leave me here!" she said, her voice rising.

"I really want to," he said, gritting his teeth. "But I can't take any more insults from those students today."

He added, his voice dropping to a low mutter, "And besides, I know I'm hurt more than you. In fact, I'm the one who needs a carry."

Selyne saw a familiar figure in the crowd. It was Nia, a wide and teasing grin on Selyne face. "Okay then," Selyne said, a mischievous glint in her own eyes. "I should call that senior from before. What was her name… Nia?"

He looked over. Nia was far away, but she was looking in the direction on their left. "Ssh! Don't talk! And look the other way," he hissed. He quickly hid his face and veered in a different direction, trying to lose himself in the crowd.

After a long, agonizing struggle, he finally reached the infirmary. He was covered in sweat, and his face was red with a mixture of pain and pure embarrassment.

He was about to put her down on a bed, but the moment he leaned forward, his own body gave out. His vision went black, and he collapsed, passing out on the bed right beside her.

Selyne, who was now sitting next to him, looked at his fainted form. "Azrael… you idiot, Azrael." She turned to a nearby nurse. "Nurse, look at him first." Then she leaned close to his ear and whispered, so quietly only he might have heard it in his dreams.

"Umm… thank you."

-- -- --

He was back in his room at the Halloway mansion, the familiar scent of antiseptic and clean linen filling the air. He laid in bed, his consciousness slowly returning. Blood was still pumping through his veins, a dull, heavy throb.

'Looks like whatever happens, I always end up in this situation,' he thought with a grim sense of humor. 'One day will come when I'm so used to this, I'll actually enjoy this recovering phase of my life. No tension, no one trying to kill me… for a little while, at least.'

He looked around the white room. There was a letter on the nightstand. He opened it. It was from Celestria.

He scanned the neat, sharp handwriting.

She had chased the demon followers, using the connections from the bodies left at the Zagan incident. She had found out that most demons take a long time to regain their strength, more than a thousand years. But there were some, the truly powerful ones, who could do it in just a few years. Selvara wouldn't be one of them.

But there was a way she could still be with him, to watch over him. Not by taking over a body, but by residing within one as a separate soul. She was looking for a way, but it wouldn't be easy. The demon follower they had caught didn't know how, but with her connections, she was sure she could find the right person.

He picked up a pen and wrote a reply on the back of the letter. 'Don't go overboard. I can't lose another person, I lik— well, another maniac. Take care, your strongest brother, Azrael.'

The door to his room opened. It was Ilythia. Behind her, Selyne was peeping, and her face lit up when she saw he was awake.

Ilythia sat in the only chair in the room. Selyne looked around, searching for something, anything, she could sit on, but found nothing. With a frustrated sigh, she left the room in a hurry.

"So," Ilythia began, her voice cool and analytical. "You created another mess, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Azrael said, his voice defensive. "I didn't do anything this time. And again, it was your stu— I mean, your lovely daughter that created the real chaos."

"But you were the one who brought her to the infirmary, carrying her," she said, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Didn't I tell you to keep your distance from her?"

"But the circumstances—"

She cut him off with a short, sharp laugh. Pss. "Haha, I know, I know. I was just teasing. Look at yourself, a scared cat trying to protest."

Her expression turned serious. "But I came here for two reasons. First, thank you for taking care of my child." It didn't sound like a real thank you to him.

'Anyway,' he thought, 'it wasn't like I really helped her.'

"And second," she continued, "I have a request. No, wait. An assignment for you. One that you can't refuse."

He gulped. 'What is she plotting now?'

"Next week, we have the public quests helping assignment," she said. "And I want you to take care of Selyne."

Azrael's mind processed that. The assignment. 'Wait, that's the orc village arc. No way. That was supposed to be Kaelen's headache.'

"The assignment given to Selyne's team seemed off to me," she explained. "Many villagers going to the forest have gone missing. That quest may be the easiest, or the hardest. Unfortunately, it has been classified as Quest Rank S, the highest of the ranks. And therefore, it will be handled by the academy's strongest first-years, including Selyne, Astrid, Aria, Silas, and Aelira. The last spot was for the Headmistress's disciple, but she is missing, along with the Headmistress. So, I pulled some strings and put you in that spot."

She sighed, a sound of frustration. "However, that was the only thing I could do with all my power. Anything else wasn't possible, like changing her quest or even getting that Astrid girl removed from the team."

She looked at him, her eyes hard. "I put you there to take care of her. I know she is much more powerful than you, but power isn't the only thing that can make you survive."

Her voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "And again, a warning. If anything happens to her, you will be dead. You can die for her, but if you come back alone, you die."

Just then, Selyne returned, dragging a chair that was almost bigger than her. She sat down with a triumphant huff.

Ilythia's cold mask instantly changed to one of a kind, doting mother. They started to chatter about the battle, with Selyne boasting about how she had punched the arrogant catgirl, then mocking Azrael for his pathetic performance.

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