The way to school itself was surprisingly uneventful. Moros kept an eye on all the other students he saw on his way.
Malissa had to hold it in, to not slap her childhood friend into another life because he kept on asking if any random person they met on their way was part of their class.
Her new and "improved" outfit, would have consisting of a bikini top, with all the necessary parts not covered and the booty shorts, which now left her all "cheeky" on the backside. Losing a pair of the clothes, she had to smuggle into her home for this, was not exactly lifting her mood either.
She knew he meant well, but she did not want others to see her goods that well.
Moros had a beaming smile on his face and could not help but notice that everyone else had none? Normal people must know things that he didn't. Maybe school was far more dangerous and stripping everyone of their humanity.
Stepping through the gates of the military school for once he stopped and took a breath of fresh air. So this was what he had been missing out on.
A cold concrete tower with no windows and screams of regret echoing inside.
He had never noticed because he had always been deadly tired when coming to this place. It was a first to see the green grass on the floor, the paved road, the school bags carried.
What things would they carry with them in a school that did not fit in their magical visor?
Did they all have a trusted pointy stick to kill Ballas with like he did?
Following the tidal wave of depressed teenagers entering their perceived prisons, they arrived at their classroom.
After encountering a few faces that he did know, they arrived at the door to their class. Moros could not help and turned around to ask his best friend.
"Yo, Malissa, how long have we been class 5 for?" the stupid question caused the recipient to foster more plans to kill him.
Had she not seen him so injured, she would have done so already…many times over. That boy would have been asking the God of death instead of her. Instead, of using violence to teach the walking stupidity before her, she calmly told him: "For 1 year, last year we were class 4."
Moros had the biggest "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH" moment of his still young life, much to the dismay of Malissa, who had murder on her mind, the moment she saw that stupid expression of his.
Entering through the door, they both took place on their specific seats.
Yet again, Moros' eyes focused everything in the classroom, asking way too many questions. She had long forgotten about her nudity, all she had on her mind was to make him shut up.
Much to her suffering he did not get the memo and continued to bombard her with questions that made her question whether or not Moros had lived under a rock or not used his brain for the last 12 years.
Her suffering was released after the bell rang and everyone awaited the timely arrival of the teacher─or so she mistakenly thought.
In her stress, she had forgotten about what day it was.
It was a Thursday and the first lesson was training at the GYM. And seeing the wide-awake, pumped-up, Moros next to her she instinctively no, that this would spell doom for any nerves left.
As everyone stood up, groaning to make their way to the local training centre. A certain someone felt inspired with yet another wave of questions.
"Where are we going?"
"The gym."
"Why are we going there?"
"Because we have to, it's our lesson."
"What is a lesson?"
"A lesson is…just the stuff you do for a while, till the teacher is gone."
After arriving at the gym, Malissa needed to make a sacrifice to save the class from murdering her best friend in cold blood. With the deepest of sighs, she removed her bikini top and just stuffed it in Moros' mouth.
Enjoying the silence for a bit, she looked at Moros giving her a confused look
"I know this is the first time you see a girls breasts up close, so just stay quiet and enjoy the moment"
She had no qualms in doing so because literally everybody could was busy looking down at the floor because gym class was next.
Grabbing her emergency black bikini top, from the subspace bracelet, she put it on and finally enjoyed the brief interlude of not having to answer questions.
This time again she cursed that gym classes disallowed the usage of magic outside of the designated zones. It was still in the middle of the winter, the space unheated and her emergency bra did not preserve any body warmth. She might as well have worn nothing to cover her upper body.
Moros let Malissa do whatever she did, since there must be a reason for her to do so. After thinking for a bit, he concluded that this must be a breathing exercise to strengthen their ability to fight in environments hostile to them.
A balding middle-aged man arrived, bellowing orders the moment he saw his class.
"The men shall train their physical powers today, the women shall train their accuracy in the designated magic zones. Now boys, follow me."
Every single boy groaned in sheer annoyance of having to train their body, aside from the one boy, whose breath sounded a bit muffled.
Following the mob of less than thrilled companions, he walked into the training room, filled with all sorts of instruments he had never seen?
Moros wondered if this was paradise?
There was a heavy bag of sorts dangling from the ceiling, there was a thing with heavy stones attached to it. There was a machine with monster heads attached to chains.
What were all these things for? Moros felt like he had just discovered a whole new world, a world he now was able to step into as well.
The middle-aged man with his flat face and balding hair screamed yet again.
"NOW DO WHAT YOU WANT, I WILL TAKE A NAP. AND IF YOU WAKE ME BEFORE THE LECTURE ENDS: YOU WILL BE DEAD KIDDOS!!!" saying so, he positioned himself on the nearest bank, put a newspaper he brought atop his face and began to snore in record time.
Moros just chose to watch on for a bit and see what everyone was doing.
At first, everyone changed their clothing into some weird-looking shorts and white shirts. Was this perhaps a strategy for distraction?
Afterwards, they all spread out and did some sort of activity causing them to sweat like hell. The objects seemed.
But, there was one thing he could not take his eyes. The heavy bag from before, it talked to him. It screamed at him, begging to be punched. Moros, for the first time in his life, felt such a deep bond with something.
Witnessing the people walk up to the bag and punching it, made him feel a tingling sensation. He did not know why, but his muscles yearned to punch said bag with all of their might.
He felt like he was born for this very moment, he was born to punch.
After a certain period, where everyone had punched the bag, he could not hold it anymore. His blood was boiling, his heart violently pumping blood throughout the body.
He only saw the bag, and he made it his life's mission to punch it with all of his strength.
Taking off his shirt, he revealed his lean upper body to the world. Killing Ballas did not yield much gain in the field of building muscles, but it also created a body bolstering a crazy endurance.
Standing before the bag, he clenched his fist, the muscles in his right arm bulging out, the veins popping out too. With all the fury, with all violence boiling in his blood at this very moment the fist was launched forward.
The loud impact reverberated throughout the now silent gym hall, the bag itself hit by such mighty force was thrown upwards and rotated around itself due to the sheer force generated.
Caught in the sensation of realising all of his strength Moros did not realise that the bag was coming back at him.
With a heavy thud, the heavy bag struck back causing the bewildered youth to be sent flying into the air and to crash onto the floor like a wet sack of potatoes.
"No one told me, they fight back?"
Moros' thoughts raced as he was pondering how to best the insidious tool, which had bested him in combat.
Lazily the gym coach motivated everyone present by mumbling to them.
"A strong body means a strong magic. You have to train hard, to wield harder magic!"
What sounded like propaganda to most, was music to the ears of Moros, who pushed himself up again.
He needed to punch the bag yet again and this time he would dodge. Another attempt later did not end with him dodging, the bag remained undefeated. Moros did not give in however and he tried and tried again, till he managed to dodge the bag attack.
After the bell rang, Moros felt said, he had not even managed to try out all the other crazy things in there.
But, his body seemed to be the happiest it had ever been. He did not know why, but school did not seem as bad to Moros as everyone made it seem to be.
He even had fun. What more fun awaited him in the next hours? Still doing the breathing exercise, he looked forward to the rest of school.
At the other side of the hall the fire-magic-wielding lady dressed in her "I will never be able to get married" outfit felt a shiver crawling down her spine…