The snakes' reaction speed changed noticeably in a short time—the intervals between their movements in different directions shortened, and their turns became steadier.
Later, he found the third snake near a drainpipe at the base of a wall. He lured it out of the pipe opening and made it keep accelerating as it turned the corner.
He felt the magic within him being drawn outward by something. As it passed through his fingertips, it became dense and steady, as though fine threads were being pulled from his palms and stretched outward. The snakes' rhythm of movement sped up with it. As they passed Cass's feet, they circled an extra half-turn compared to before, as though confirming a target position before continuing onward.
He also noticed some shortcomings in his ability. When he tried to make a larger snake keep accelerating in a certain direction, it would briefly stall between repeated commands, as though waiting for his magic to reconnect—or clearing away the lingering echo of the previous command.
For the time being, he still could not find a stable way to sustain the acceleration, nor had he found a rhythm that could keep the enhancement even over long distances. But he already knew it could be done. He just needed more practice.
During that time, cracks also appeared among the bullies themselves. Cass heard their voices at different times and in different places—the young nobles speaking in lowered voices in a corner of the cafeteria, the commoner students standing in a circle at a corridor turn, and the moderates who belonged to neither side yet appeared among both.
Those voices gathered together like a pile of embers that had not fully gone out, each burning along its own edges.
A younger student in white robes leaned against a cloister pillar,