The next day.
Velmoria Academy, class 3S.
Raven leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head, and stared at the ceiling like it held the answers to all of life's misfortunes.
It didn't.
But at least it wasn't screaming "I AM THE FIRE!!" at him.
'Mana drunk…' he thought dryly. 'That old lunatic actually got mana-drunk.'
The events of the previous evening played in his head like a fever dream wrapped in a midlife crisis.
One moment, he and the others were enjoying a rare, peaceful dusk, and the next, Crisaius Von Vaise had emerged like a shirtless phoenix from the depths of retirement.
He had arrived with the dramatic flair of someone auditioning for a rock opera and the mana control of a toddler with a flamethrower.
Raven pinched the bridge of his nose again, déjà vu setting in. That man… was his master.
'Hard to believe,' with his eyes closed, he thought, 'that a sane guy like me is his disciple.'
The thought of being his disciple physically pained him.
