( A few hours earlier - Inside the orientation hall )
Professor Darius had expected Alash Vortex to leave the infirmary.
He had been quite certain of it.
Not because he believed the boy was cruel.
Everything in Vortex's records suggested the opposite, particularly when someone was genuinely in danger.
But there were one hundred and twenty-three wounded constructs inside that building, and the examination had given Class Five eight hours, an unknown distance to the Citadel, limited medical supplies, no personal artifacts, and thirty-six classmates whose performance now depended at least partially on their leader's judgment.
Leaving was the sensible choice.
Treat the students.
Take whatever medicine could be carried.
Find the Guardian Seal.
Move.
Instead, Alash Vortex was kneeling beside a critically wounded soldier with both hands glowing.
Darius crossed his arms.
"He's wasting mana."
Professor Selene did not look away from the observation screen.
