Chapter 336: Blatant Racism "You were?" Azel asked, tilting his head slightly. He was genuinely curious about what possible reason she could have for being here... in the men’s shower, of all places. If someone else had walked in, how was she even planning to explain herself? "I-I... was hiding from the Professor," Esme said between quick breaths. "I don’t like running." Azel blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck. "No wonder I didn’t see you anywhere out there..." he muttered with a sigh. "You really thought hiding here would save you?" "Yes," she said in all seriousness, as though that logic made perfect sense. "He hasn’t caught me until now." Her voice softened into a whisper. "The period should probably be over very soon anyway, and then I can just go to my next class. Even if I get in trouble, at least I won’t have to run... for now." "I guess that’s fair," Azel said, though he wondered how Esme would react when she found that the period had been extended. "How are you planning to deal with me showering, though? I smell awful, and I’m planning to have a long one." Esme’s cheeks turned bright red at that, her eyes darting everywhere but toward him. "I-I’ll just... close my eyes. Yeah! I’ll close my eyes." She nodded quickly, as though convincing herself that this was a solid strategy. "That way I won’t see a thing." Azel blinked once. "That’s your plan?" "Yes!" she said, puffing her cheeks slightly. Before she could even lift her hands to her eyes, the door to the shower room swung open with a sharp metallic creak. Professor Sebastian stepped in. "I’ve been letting you rest for the past hour, young lady," he said in that deep voice. His figure blurred, and in the blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of Esme with the counter separating them. She yelped as his hand gripped the back of her shirt, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. "You need to start running," Sebastian said flatly. Esme dangled in the air like a caught kitten, her legs swinging helplessly. "H-how... how did you know I was a woman?" she asked... her voice was small and resigned, as if realizing her fate was already sealed. Sebastian sighed like it was the simplest question in the world. "You know men and women breathe differently, right?" Esme blinked. "What?" "And when you’re in a room like this," he said, pointing toward the single, narrow window near the ceiling, "with ventilation that poor... I can hear every single breath." "Damn..." Esme muttered weakly. "Enjoy your bath," Sebastian said, turning his gaze briefly to Azel. Then, without another word, he threw Esme over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked out, the door closing behind them with a loud bang. The silence that followed was almost comedic. Azel stood there for a second, blinking slowly. "...Well that was terrifying." He sighed, shaking his head, and finally turned back toward the steaming shower stalls. "Guess that’s handled," he muttered under his breath and stepped under the stream of warm water. The first splash hit his shoulders, and he exhaled deeply. It was calming... He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, letting the water drown out every other sound. When he was done, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel from the rack, drying himself off and putting on his pants. "I feel refreshed..." he murmured, wrapping the towel securely around his waist. His hair was damp and clung lightly to his forehead. Steam still rolled lazily off his shoulders as he slung his sweaty tracksuit over one arm. ’At least the watch was waterproof.’ He pressed it against the black sensor panel on his locker. The lock clicked open instantly. He placed his dirty clothes inside. "I wonder if it’ll be washed automatically..." he muttered, half to himself. Then another message flickered across his watch’s screen. [The lower section of your locker will house your towel each time you want to use it. Fold it and keep it there.] "Huh. Neat." He followed the instruction, folding the towel neatly before placing it in the lower compartment. The locker light blinked green once, signaling that the function was saved for next time. He reached for his uniform, putting it on piece by piece... then he straightened the collar and tugged the cuffs down properly before closing the locker. "Now that’s nice," he said, quietly satisfied. The feeling of clean clothes after a long run was almost as good as the shower itself. He left the locker room, the door closing softly behind him. The hallway outside was quiet. "There are different instructors for the second years and third years," Azel muttered as he walked. "So the school should be mostly empty right about now." He stretched his arms as he walked down the corridor, passing rows of classroom doors. Sunlight poured through the long windows, casting pale lines across the marble floor. ’Maybe I should check out the new Spellcraft professor,’ he thought idly. Of all the faculty members, that was the one subject he didn’t remember much about. After Drake, he couldn’t remember what professor had taken his place. He turned the corner and walked straight toward the Spellcraft classroom. The door was slightly ajar, so he pushed it open. Empty. The room was spotless but the professor of the class wasn’t there. "Then the office..." he said softly and turned toward the side hallway leading to the faculty rooms. He stopped before a door labeled [Spellcraft Department Office]. He turned the handle and stepped inside. At first glance, he could tell it was different from how it was before. The place where they had tied up Drake’s clone was spotless now and a drawer was there. Seated behind the desk was an elven man, probably only a few years older than Azel, though the air around him carried the kind of superiority that came from generations of arrogance. His long silver-blond hair framed his sharp face, and a single pair of gold-rimmed spectacles rested on his nose. He looked up from the papers he was sorting and smiled. "Ah, my lad—" He stopped mid-sentence with his eyes narrowing as he actually looked at Azel. "Oh..." His tone shifted immediately. "It’s just a human." Azel’s brow twitched slightly. The elf’s expression turned from polite to mildly disgusted in under two seconds. "Young man, what brings you here? Let me guess... you’re trying to sate your human tendency for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?" He said human like it was a curse word. Azel blinked once. Then, without another word, he turned around, shut the door and let out a long, quiet sigh. ’What a blatant racist,’ he thought. ’Spellcraft truly doesn’t have any good professors.’