The appearance of this boy suddenly reminded him that he was also a lower-year student at Pamir Academy.
Students were at the prime of their youth—young, reckless, and carefree. Fighting over girls was what was normal.
Someone like him, worrying about the family's future all day long, seemed to be the true oddity.
The only question was that during both lunches when he had met Cleo, this guy had not been present. So how did he know his name?
"...If you came to me only to discuss this, then you may leave now. I have no interest in the Cleo you mentioned."
Having confirmed that the person before him was merely a minor character, Anvis replied somewhat listlessly, then prepared to leave and pick up Fiona.
"I think that when facing an upper-grade senior stronger than yourself, you should show more respect than this!"
Hearing Anvis's careless tone, the boy was instantly enraged. He raised a hand, intending to grab Anvis by the collar.
However, his hand failed to touch Anvis. No matter how hard he reached, he remained several dozen centimeters away from Anvis.
"I advise you, sir, not to leap about here like an Armadillo Monkey, and do not wave your fists at every turn. It will do you no good. It will only make you look like a crude farmer who knows nothing of Magic."
Gazing coldly at the boy before him, Anvis raised his white-gloved index finger and lightly pressed it against the boy's hand.
"You damned bastard! I challenge you to a duel! Do you dare accept?"
That contemptuous gesture made the boy even more furious. His right hand shifted from a grab to a slap, trying to knock away Anvis's finger, but Anvis withdrew his hand before he could touch it.
"I often hear