Cruzer nodded at Marco's warning, his resolve firm. He wasn't here to make friends or bow to any factions. He had a mission, and nothing—not even a powerful student faction—would stand in his way.
As they continued down the corridor, the silence was palpable. The students who had witnessed the confrontation kept their distance, whispering among themselves but avoiding eye contact with Cruzer. The message had been sent loud and clear: Cruzer wasn't someone to be trifled with.
Cruzer entered his assigned room, a small and bare space with a single bed, a worn desk, and a rickety chair.
There was a window, but the view was of a brick wall just a few feet away. Still, it was a place to rest, and that was all Cruzer needed. He set his greatsword by the bed, sitting down, the events of the day replaying in his mind.
The academy was every bit as chaotic and dangerous as he had heard, but he had faced worse.
