Draven's cold, piercing gaze swept across the lecture hall, lingering on each student as if reading their very thoughts. His sharp eyes held no sympathy for the haggard faces that stared back at him, exhaustion evident in the way they slouched in their seats. Amberine, Elara, and Maris sat among the others, sharing the same fatigue, but none dared to speak. The weight of the mid-term exam hung heavily over the room, and now, with their results given, the anticipation was almost unbearable.
For Draven, the tension was expected, perhaps even calculated. He was not the type of professor to coddle his students or spare them from the harsh realities of magic. His method was clear—he would push them to their breaking point, and only then would they truly begin to understand the depth of their abilities.
