The rest would be kicked out of the Academy, and their shortcomings would become known to the entire magical community. "My children? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Vastor put the pen down, studying the color draining from the youth's face. "You said you didn't want to be disturbed." Number Three sounded like a beaten puppy, even the pitch of his voice was the same. "And I wouldn't have done it if… You know… It's better if you see it yourself, Professor." "Thanks, Number Three." Vastor's interest was piqued. For some reason, the youth was more scared of what lay on the other side of the door than of the short man behind the desk. "Take a break until I deal with this." The Professor literally jumped off his chair and reached the exit of his office with the quick strides that his stumpy legs needed to reach the speed of everyone else. 'This is weird.' He thought, his hand signing the air in front of him due to muscle memory. 'Filia and Frey don't come here often, and they are not the kind of spoiled brats that would bully a post grad. Sure, Tezka is with them, but he knows better than-' The answer to all of his questions lay right behind the door. Filia and Frey were sitting on a couch on the left side of the antechamber. What only appeared to be two big magical beasts, one red and one blue, sat on either side of the couch like silent sentinels. Zesor and Quifar Vastor, instead, were sitting on a couch on the right side of the antechamber. The sons from Vastor's first marriage glared at their adoptive siblings, who in turn stared at their father's door, waiting to be rescued. Tezka completed the triangle, looking at Zesor and Quifar like a spider would two fat flies buzzing near his web. The older Vastors had brought several servants and even a couple of magical knights with them, yet those people stood huddled in the farthest corner of the room. It was always easy to separate those who had met Tezka's gaze from those who had not. The former would always keep themselves away and do nothing that might turn the Fylgja's glare into something much worse. Vastor had no idea how Tezka could make everyone feel like he was the one looking down on them despite the short body of his disguise, yet the symptoms of his silent threat were unmistakable. Nervousness, shortness of breath, increased perspiration, and the inability to say a word due to panic gluing the tongue to the palate. All symptoms that Vastor's older children were exhibiting, just with better self-control than their servants. 'Pride has always been their strength, but one day it will be the cause of their downfall.' The Professor knew Zesor and Quifar would never be so quiet while sitting so close to two commoner-born if not for Tezka's presence. Their stubbornness allowed them to hold their ground as long as they avoided the Fylgja's gaze, but keeping such an attitude when their lives were on the line was more foolish than brave. "My sons." Vastor spoke to the grown-ups first, giving them a polite but formal nod. The sound of his voice broke the tension in the room as Tezka went back pretending to be a magical beast. "Father." Zesor and Quifar stood up and bowed, knowing that any disrespect to their noble parent in public would have sullied the Vastor's name and achieved nothing but making the two young men objects of public contempt. Despite all of his flaws, Zogar Vastor was an Archduke, an Archmage, and the Head of the White Griffon's Light Department. There was no noble who didn't respect his achievements and wouldn't have been caught dead badmouthing the Professor. Not with the risk that their words reached Vastor's ears and he cut them off from the expansion business of his newly promoted Archduchy. "What a nice surprise, children." Then, the Professor turned to the younglings. "What are you doing here?" "Dad!" Filia and Frey jumped off their chairs and ran to hug him, leaving their step-brothers horrified by their lack of etiquette. "We miss you so much. When are you coming home?" "Good question." Vastor turned back at the open door of his office. "How long before I'm done serving my sentence, Number One?" "Again, Professor, you are not a prisoner." A blonde woman in her early twenties blushed a little, adjusting her glasses in embarrassment. "Everyone is doing forced overtime, but you can leave if you want." "And leave my crew babysitting the scrubs?" Vastor shook his head. "You'd get very little done in my absence, and it would be so poorly done that we would spend the next day just fixing that mess. Either everyone goes home or no one does." "Thank you, Professor." Number One bowed deeply, her hair brushing the floor for a short second. "I'm sorry for keeping your dad away, kids. We are working as fast as we can." She gave Filia and Frey a shallower bow next. "Don't worry, and thank you, Auntie." Filia and Frey politely returned to bow. "If you like her, I'm keeping this one." Vastor jabbed his thumb at Number One. "She's brave enough to stand her ground to me and wise enough to know when she can afford it." "Thank you, Professor." The young mage's attitude made Quifar's and Zesor's blood boil. Number One looked at their father like some short, plump god and treated his strays with respect, whereas she straight ignored those who truly carried his blood along with his family name. 'Glare at me as much as you want, losers.' Number One noticed Quifar's and Zesor's spite and returned it in kind. 'Only talent and mana matter in an academy, and you have none. You are not even in Vastor's good graces. 'Being polite to you would just be a waste of my precious time. I can grow to be the next Vastor while you'll never amount to more than a waste of his blood.' She turned around and closed the door behind her to give the Vastors privacy "Father, ours is no social visit." Zesor was tired of being ignored. "We need to talk." "Sure thing." Vastor nodded. "I'll move us to my private quarters. There no one will disturb us, but I don't have much time." "Don't worry, father, we don't need long." Quifar replied. It was common courtesy for a mage to announce to his guests where he would Warp them. Vastor didn't expect Filia and Frey to cling to his mage robe. "Can we come too?" The Professor saw worry on her face and the desire to protect him. "Please, Dad? These guys are mean." Frey was young and rarely minced words. "It's not up to me, kids. If my sons want to speak with me alone-" "They are more than welcome to come, Father." Zesor's smile didn't extend to his eyes. "After all, we are family, and the matter I wanted to discuss involves your step-children as well." "Very well." A snap of Vastor's fingers brought everyone away, leaving Tezka and the terrified servants behind. "You have five minutes to leave this place." The red wolf said. "If you are still here when I'm done counting, the hunt begins." The blue wolf completed the threat without missing a beat. The Vastor Household hired only the bravest and most militarily gifted. The servants needed only one minute to reach the closest Warp Gate.