The great father of "Anonymous."
He ran through the empty corridors of the Castle to avoid being late.
Professor Lily, who was still sprawled on the sofa, blinked. Only after a long while did she suddenly flap her wings and fly up!
She abruptly turned her head and reached out, as if trying to seize the golden sand slipping through her fingertips.
"Don't be afraid, Lily."
"This time, it won't be so easy to slip away."
Lily blinked, her long lashes trembling constantly.
The sound of wind chimes swept through the office.
Dark Dimon rushed into the classroom on the tail end of the chime.
But Professor Thompson merely glanced at him from the podium and paid him no further attention.
Dark let out a small sigh of relief.
He marveled at how, one day, he too had gained the privilege of a "good student."
"He was late, wasn't he?" Victor Gaude couldn't help muttering.
"Yeah, he was late," Robert Broheim replied flatly.
After that, no one paid any more attention to it.
If one delved deeply into the theoretical knowledge of Potions, it was actually extremely complex.
The medicinal properties of ingredients alone were enough to stump a great many people.
But for lower-year students, the focus was primarily on familiarization, with the goal of enabling them to brew a potion once they had obtained its recipe.
Every lesson Professor Thompson taught was highly practical.
But when it came to assigning homework, he was swift, ruthless, and precise.
The students had mixed feelings about it.
"Duck-duck—"
Potions had yet to end.
Dark suddenly heard an otherworldly call by his ear.
He whipped his head around and saw a face pressed against the glass!
"You've gone too far!"
Three black lines immediately appeared above Dark's brow.
*Looks like I can't