Every student in the tiered seating was frozen, their eyes wide as they stared down at the broken battle floor that was slowly starting to repair itself.
Slowly, every head turned toward Professor Chance.
Usually, this was when the stoic Professor would step forward, adjust his spectacles, and deliver a clinical breakdown of the duel. He would explain the Grace management, the tactical flaws, the elemental counters.
But this time, Chance stood perfectly still. He stared at the ruined floor, pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, and looked up at the shell-shocked students.
"Class is dismissed," Chance said flatly.
He didn't offer a single word of explanation. He just turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the Year Ones alone with the impossible reality of what they had just witnessed.
Lancet stood there for a moment, acting as nonchalant as he could even though his cheeks started to red from the hundred unblinking stares drilling into him.
