The academy hallway echoed with the fading laughter of the Class C students, their mocking words lingering like a bitter fog.
Olivia stood frozen, her light brown, wavy bob trembling, her hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Lor watched, his black hair falling over his hazel eyes.
The Class C students' revelation—that individual advancement to Class C and further was a lie, that only a class could escalate together—had shaken her, and he knew words could either calm or ignite her further.
"Hey," Lor said softly, stepping closer, his voice low. "You okay?"
Olivia's head snapped up, tears spilling down her cheeks as she glared at him, her voice sharp and broken.
"Are they right? Is it all a lie? The top scores, the chance to leave Class D—is it all just... fake?" Her fists clenched, her tight shirt straining as she took a shaky breath.
Lor hesitated, his Earth-born intellect racing but coming up empty. He honestly didn't know.
If Miss Silvia had lied about individual advancement, it could be a cruel deception—or a clever way to keep Class D from giving up.
"I don't know," he admitted, his tone steady but genuine. "I haven't heard anything like that before."
Olivia's eyes widened, her tears falling faster.
"I have to know," she said, her voice cracking.
She turned and ran down the hallway, her tight pants swishing with each desperate step.
"Where are you going?" Lor called, jogging after her, his pulse quickening.
They reached Miss Silvia's office, a cramped room cluttered with papers and spellbooks, the faint scent of chamomile tea in the air.
Silvia stood by a small kettle, her auburn hair loose from its usual bun, her glasses perched on her nose.
Her white blouse and pencil skirt hugged her voluptuous figure, her busty chest and curvy hips a distraction even in the tense moment.
She turned, holding a steaming teacup, but her clumsy hands betrayed her.
The tea spilled, splashing across her chest, soaking her blouse.
The thin fabric turned translucent, clinging to her ample breasts, the lacy outline of her bra faintly visible.
She gasped, dropping the cup and instinctively covering her chest with her hands, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled for a towel.
"Oh, bother," Silvia muttered, her glasses slipping.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she let her hands fall, realizing the futility of covering up.
The wet blouse outlined every curve, her breasts full and heavy, the damp fabric accentuating their shape, her skin glowing faintly in the office's soft light.
Olivia didn't care about the mishap, her hazel eyes blazing as she stormed forward. "Miss Silvia, is it true?" she demanded, her voice raw.
"Did you lie about the top scores? That we can't move to Class C unless the whole class escalates?"
Silvia's sharp gaze met Olivia's, her expression tightening. She set the towel down, her wet blouse still clinging to her curves, and took a deep breath.
"Yes," she said quietly, her voice steady but heavy. "I lied."
Olivia's breath caught, her wavy bob trembling. Lor leaned against the doorframe, his hazel eyes narrowing, listening intently.
"But I had a good reason," Silvia continued, her tone earnest. "Class D... you're all so talented, but you've been told you're failures for so long, you believe it. If I told you the truth—that only the whole class can move up, that individual scores don't matter—you'd give up. You'd stop trying. I lied to keep you motivated, to make you believe you can get strong, stronger than you expect yourselves to be." Her glasses fogged slightly, her voice cracking. "I'm not a great teacher. I know that. My spells are weak, my lessons are basic. But I'm trying my best to make you learn, to make you believe in yourselves. I'd do anything for Class D—even lie."
Lor's mind raced, his initial suspicion giving way to a grudging respect.
Silvia was a liar, sure, but her heart was in it.
She wasn't a master mage, but she was fighting for Class D in her own clumsy way, using deception to spark hope.
He glanced at Olivia, whose tears had slowed, her hazel eyes wide with a mix of anger and understanding.
"I... I get it," Olivia said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry for yelling."
Silvia smiled, her wet blouse still clinging to her, her warmth undimmed.
"Don't be sorry. Just keep learning. I'll do everything I can, even if it means more lies, to help Class D learn and grow. As your teacher, it's my job."
Lor nodded slightly, his grin absent for once.
He and Olivia turned to leave, the weight of Silvia's words settling over them.
The hallway was silent as they walked, Olivia's tight pants swishing, her wavy bob still as she stared at the floor.
They paused near the courtyard, the distant clang of sword sparring echoing.
Olivia stopped, her hazel eyes wide, a flicker of fear breaking through her usual fire.
"I'm fucked," she whispered, her voice barely audible.