Ishit placed a sealing curse on Al-Drum and flew off to his parents. His heart was still thudding like a Mridangam. He felt fortunate that his parents had fed him the memory pill; otherwise, he would have turned into an oaf today.
Al-Drum's stambhan curse had caught him off guard, for he hadn't expected him to use the forbidden curse. One rarely used such curses during sparrings. After all, the chief goal of sparing or such events was to showcase your understanding of battle arts and your potential, not defeat your opponent. That was the reason sometimes, even defeated ones were placed in the top ten by judges or got accepted into prestigious academies.
Ishit dropped Al-drum on the ground as his mother hugged him tightly, knocking the air out of his lungs. Her comforting smell calmed down his boiling blood.
"Are you all right, my moon?" asked she, sobbing. She kissed Ishit's forehead.
