Just like that, a week passed uneventfully.
During this time, Aurora’s complexion had returned to normal, regaining its usual healthy color.
But in contrast, Avila no longer seemed like her old self.
Ever since she left that day, terrifying wounds had begun to appear on her body—and with each passing day, they grew more numerous and more severe. Some had even begun to fester and ooze.
Aurora knew it must be the result of her daily practice. The prolonged training was exhausting her magic reserves, and the result was that she was constantly drowsy in class.
She had already lost count of how many times the teachers had scolded her.
*****
Between classes.
Aurora made her way to the back row of the classroom. She wanted to say a few words to Avila—to tell her not to practice magic at the cost of hurting herself.
If she kept this up, something terrible would happen sooner or later.
But when she saw Avila slumped over the desk, fast asleep, she couldn’t bring herself to wake her.
Helplessly, she decided to wait until Avila woke up to speak with her.
Finally, when school ended, Aurora seized the moment while Beatrice was still busy answering other students’ questions and rushed over to find Avila.
But when she looked toward the back row, Avila was already gone.
Worry gnawed at her, but she couldn’t leave Beatrice’s side for too long, so she decided she’d talk to Avila the next day.
One day passed after another, yet Aurora still couldn’t find a chance to speak to her.
Avila would force herself to stay awake during class, fall asleep the moment it ended, and bolt out of the room the instant school was over. There was no opportunity to talk at all.
Seeing more and more wounds covering Avila’s body, Aurora’s anxiety deepened. She thought, If only I knew some healing magic…
Then she could help heal Avila’s injuries. But magic that could alter the human body was often the most difficult to learn. At best, she could only use minor servant spells like trimming nails or styling hair.
The bell rang again, signaling the start of class. Aurora still hadn’t found a chance to speak with her.
She sat back in the front row, feeling somewhat defeated.
Ever since she’d been caught talking during class by Beatrice that day, Beatrice had made her sit in the front row—convenient for keeping a close eye on her.
As a result, Aurora often found herself being deliberately called on to answer tough questions.
Honestly… my job is supposed to be as a maid, not a student.
Just as she was thinking this, a sharp clapping sound came from the podium.
Beatrice tapped the blackboard with her teaching wand and addressed the class: “The date for the Academy’s flying race has been finalized. It will take place this coming Monday, three days from now. Students who sign up and win will receive a reward.”
“Third place will receive a fifth-tier mana stone. Second place gets a witch’s cloak. As for first place…”
She paused deliberately, casting her gaze toward Avila as she continued, “A magic branch worth five hundred gold coins.”
The moment her words landed, a wave of excited chatter erupted below the podium.
The students were visibly thrilled by the announcement.
What did a five-hundred-gold magic branch mean? Even intermediate witches typically wielded branches worth around seven hundred gold coins.
A prize of this value was nearly on par with the weapon of a full-fledged mid-tier witch.
In an instant, even students who hadn’t planned on participating suddenly became eager to sign up—their eyes fixed on that branch.
But the more who registered, the fiercer the competition. Aurora cast a worried glance toward the back row.
Avila’s complexion looked terrible. Her eyes were bloodshot, dark circles hung beneath them, and her once fair skin had grown dry and rough from lack of rest.
The numerous wounds on her face only added to her worn-out, sickly appearance.
Just now, Avila had caught Beatrice’s gaze—Beatrice was telling her that she could reclaim the magic branch she had lost by winning this race. Perhaps… even gain a better one.
Avila’s fingers curled tighter around the edge of her desk, her resolve visibly firming.
“Just a little more… I just need to hold out a little longer…”
She looked in Aurora’s direction and met her concerned gaze.
Noticing Aurora’s expression, Avila rubbed her cheeks, trying to wipe away the exhaustion on her face, and gave her a small smile.
But Aurora couldn’t bring herself to smile back.
That smile… it was too forced, too fatigued. There was no joy in it—only a suffocating weariness that clouded Avila’s eyes.
Aurora raised her hand and gestured slightly, signaling for Avila to wait after school. But Avila only tilted her head in confusion, seemingly not understanding what she meant.
BANG!
Just as Aurora was about to gesture again, a loud slam rang out from the desk.
“Wah!”
Aurora flinched in fright, her whole body trembling. She turned and locked eyes with Beatrice’s icy glare.
“Sitting in the front row, right under my nose, and you still dare to make hand signals to Avila? You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”
Her frosty tone hadn’t thawed a bit. Those dark eyes then shifted toward Avila in the back row.
After staring for a few seconds, she turned her gaze back to Aurora.
Her body leaned down slightly, thin lips curling as she whispered into Aurora’s ear, “I’ll settle accounts with you after school.”
Then she straightened up and returned to the podium to resume the lesson.
Aurora let out a long breath. She knew Beatrice was going to torment her again today, but at least Avila hadn’t been scolded because of her—that was a relief.
Once class finally ended, Aurora waited obediently. When she turned around, she was surprised to see that Avila was still in her seat.
She quickly moved forward, intending to call out to her, but before she could say a word, a sharp voice cut her off.
“Aurora.”
It felt like a cold wind blew past her. Aurora stiffened and turned around to meet Beatrice’s anger-filled gaze.
Beatrice beckoned her over with a hand, speaking in a flat tone: “Come here.”
There were still students in the classroom. When they sensed the strange tension between the two, they all paused, pretending to continue studying while their eyes clung shamelessly to the scene.
“Master, maybe we should go back first and—”
Aurora already had a bad feeling about what was coming next. She hoped Beatrice would wait until they were somewhere private.
“No.”
The icy response was a death sentence to Aurora’s dignity.
She knew exactly what Beatrice wanted. To get it over with quickly, she walked right up to her and gave her a light peck on the lips—barely a touch, like a dragonfly skimming water.
She could feel the heat of all those student stares drilling into her… and Beatrice’s dissatisfied gaze.
“Who told you to kiss me like that?”
“I-I just…”
Before Aurora could finish, she was abruptly pressed down against the teacher’s desk.
“W-Wait a minute—mmph!”
The next second, her lips were sealed—soft and wet invading her mouth, a sticky warmth filling her senses.
Under Avila’s gaze—and that of every student in the room—the two of them were entwined in an intimate kiss.
Despite the number of students present, the classroom, usually noisy after class, was eerily silent. The only sound echoing through the room was the lewd wetness of their entangled lips.
Aurora nearly passed out from lack of air before Beatrice finally let her go.
When she turned her head, she realized that Avila had quietly left at some point.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked at the classroom door.
Aurora looked up and was surprised to see the blue-haired woman she had met when she first arrived.
The woman’s expression was urgent as she turned to Beatrice and said, “Professor Eisenberg, I need your help with something.”