Professor Draul sat in the Headmaster's seat, tending to several different documents left behind by his superior. The gloomy professor muttered a never-ending string of mild curses in honour of his employer, "Damned lazy old ungrateful arrogant braggart ice lizard leaving all his chores to me. Does he think I have nothing better to do?
I had to deal with those nobles and dragon brats who kept picking on Squad Six, then I had to teach both basic and advanced rune theory.
Not to mention the Ember brat has been skipping school and slowing my research.
When does that old crone plan on bringing that boy back in? He's clearly in trouble… and yet the old man does nothing. If I could give him a piece of my mind I would…'
'Ding…' went a chime in the Warlock's head.
He sighed as the door to the Headmaster's office opened, admitting a red-haired man with a prominent scar on his face dressed in a brown robe with a large greatsword hanging at his back.
