The Witcher Academy buzzed with life the next morning. The marble halls echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps, incantations whispered under breaths, and the occasional crackle of a spell gone wrong. Asmodeus and Belial stood at the edge of the grand hall, their gazes wandering over the vibrant chaos.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," Asmodeus muttered, clutching his satchel tighter. His emerald eyes darted from one group of students to another, his discomfort visible in the stiff way he stood.
Belial grinned, nudging him with her elbow. "Come on, it's not that bad. Look over there—" She pointed toward a trio of students hovering mid-air, their cloaks billowing like storm clouds. "See? If they can fly without crashing, we can survive one more day."
Asmodeus chuckled despite himself, but his shoulders remained tense. "Surviving might be easier if we didn't have Advanced Magical Systems first thing in the morning. I barely understand the basics."
"Then it's a good thing you've got me," Belial teased, flipping open her spellbook. The leather-bound pages shimmered faintly, the runes glowing under the sunlight streaming through the arched windows. "Stick with me, and you'll be top of the class in no time."
Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? And how many spells have you actually mastered?"
Belial winced, shutting the book with a snap. "Details, details. Let's just say… we're in this together."
Their banter was interrupted by a sudden hush that fell over the hall. All eyes turned toward the far end, where a tall figure strode in. Headmaster Zephyr, his silver robes trailing behind him like liquid moonlight, exuded an aura of power. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, and even the boldest students looked away.
"As you embark on your second day, remember this," Zephyr began, his voice deep and commanding. "The Witcher Academy is not a place for the faint-hearted. Each of you holds potential, but only the determined will rise to the top. Mediocrity is not tolerated here."
The weight of his words pressed down on Asmodeus, and he exchanged a nervous glance with Belial.
"Intense much?" she whispered, her golden eyes wide.
"You think?" Asmodeus replied under his breath, the corners of his mouth twitching nervously.
Zephyr's gaze seemed to linger on Asmodeus for a moment before sweeping across the room again. "Dismissed. To your classes."
The students scattered like leaves in the wind, but the heavy atmosphere remained. Belial grabbed Asmodeus's arm, pulling him toward their classroom.
"Come on, let's not give them a reason to kick us out on day two," she said, her voice light but her grip firm.
Asmodeus followed reluctantly, his thoughts a swirl of doubt. As they entered the classroom, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been noticed—and not in a way he liked.