"This is my academy, Sikuwa, in case you have forgotten. I can be anywhere I want to be." Senraki, still crouched at the edge of the raised wall, above the central pentagon. Sikuwa had never known when to mind his own business, and since he had refused to die, he had become a pain in Senraki's neck.
"Yet even if a donkey is painted white, it can not become a zebra," Sikuwa said. maintain his position in the middle of the roof. His tone was cold.
"That is true indeed. A man turning a respectable school into a poison warrior hub is indeed not a quality of a Grand Marshal." Senraki answered, still staring into the lower pentagons in front of him. He had just been about to use his hooking ropes to dismount the wall, yet now it seemed he couldn't.
