As Lyrian turned his head toward Israthel, an unimpressed expression donning his face, he said to himself, 'How miserable can a person be... this idiot just won't stop trying to get at me. Still, this is pathetic.'
Peser called on Israthel to continue his point.
"Varant never says that perfection is his greatest quality, so this fool is wrong! You can't just make up shit, you moron. This isn't the boonies where you can get away with it, this is a royal academy."
No one spoke for a few seconds.
"Is that... right," Peser said, as the bell marking the end of class suddenly rang.
Israthel smiled cunningly at Lyrian as Sir Peser left the class with his bag, along with several other students.
"Come with me, if you're not a fucking pussy." Israthel stood up and began to walk down toward the exit, as his fat friend quickly followed him.
Lyrian and Leon exchanged irritated looks with each other before walking out of the room themselves.
