“Those Wodanaz clan people really do have some surprising quirks, don’t they.”
“They’re all peculiar, that’s for sure.”
When the Meikin family members accepted it with little protest, Professor Thunderstride felt a bit guilty.
He’d lied to make his job easier, but watching his student be mistaken for a crazy workaholic wasn’t exactly comfortable.
“The Wodanaz aren’t like other families who’re just crazy about magic—”
“I heard he’s taking every school’s first-year spells at once.”
“That’s honestly astounding.”
“... Yeah. He’s completely obsessed with magic.”
Professor Thunderstride quickly abandoned his excuses and changed the subject.
He thought to himself: this is self-inflicted.
No matter how you looked at it, letting the student take all those classes at once was his own doing.
“He’s coming!”
Waves heaved and a huge tentacle writhed beyond the harbor, as bright as noon.
Hunters from the Shadow Patrol, aboard their swift ships, bit their fingertips to draw blood and rubbed it onto their arrows, then sharply aimed at the sea serpent.
“Your servant who began tracking from within the shadows will now begin the hunt. Master of the mountain range, please look kindly upon us,” the Shadow Patrol hunters intoned briefly, raising their spirits.