"Unless something unexpected happened, Sir Friedman would spend the next year at the mercy of his old rival."
"That's brutal."
"No wonder Matthew's been looking miserable these past few days."
"They're both Cullens. If Sir Friedman's in trouble, Matthew won't have it easy either."
"Isn't Sephrano a year below Sir Friedman? Sir Friedman's a third-year, and Sephrano's still a second-year."
"Goes to show that age and ability don't necessarily go hand in hand."
"Maybe Sir Friedman will choose to graduate early. He's a Registered Wizard by now, isn't he?"
"Which of those big shots isn't? And after Senior Colmar's example... I wouldn't be surprised if one of them suddenly became a Grand Wizard."
The dorm room had been full of sympathy and barely concealed glee. Everyone talked over one another, speculating about what might happen between Alpha Academy's two student leaders as though discussing an entertaining new play.
But Zheng Qing's last remark brought the mood crashing down.
At Jiu You Academy, where grades decided everything, it did some good to talk about "poetry and the distant hills." It gave everyone a little spirit for the climb toward their own modest goals.
Turn those distant hills into the Himalayas, though, and the conversation became painful—especially when the listeners had ambitions of their own.
It was the crushing feeling of seeing the mountain ahead and knowing you could never reach it.
The mood stayed low for a few seconds before someone finally returned to the original topic:
"Anyway... the school's punishment for those two big shots really is frightening."
Dylan's head drooped over the edge of his black coffin. He still looked a little dejected, his two small fangs showing and pressing deep marks into his lower lip. "If Starry Sky Academy got a ruling like that, everyone would stop fighting