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...

His shots were a disaster—0, 1, 3—each bead veering wildly, swallowed by the wards or lost in the gale.

A soft groan rippled across Class B’s polished benches, their confidence cracking like thin ice.

Kael’s anger boiled over.

"Useless!" he snarled, his fist slamming into Fenric’s shoulder, sending the smaller boy stumbling.

Fenric’s eyes widened, panic flashing as he scrambled to his feet, the benches buzzing with discord.

Class B’s u ...

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