Lor sat on a desk, his black hair falling over his hazel eyes, he was relaxed as he faced Eva.
Her dark blue hair with pink streaks was tied with her large blue bow, her tight uniform clinging to her curvy figure—full chest, plump hips, thighs that strained her short skirt.
Her green eyes sparkled with anticipation, her confidence palpable as she stood ready for the Guiding Light.
Lor closed his eyes and the coin hovered between them, its gleam a facade for his subtle magic, his grin hiding the thrill of multiple eyes watching from the shadows.
"What guidance do you seek?" Lor intoned, his tone deep.
Eva's voice was firm, her confidence clear. "I want to improve my spell-casting. For the inter-class tournament. My wood magic's decent, but I need precision to stand out."
Lor nodded slightly, his eyes still closed, the coin steady in the air.
"The Guiding Light demands a price," he said, pausing for effect. "You must twerk for five minutes... in your underwear."
A sharp gasp broke the silence.
Lor opened his eyes, letting the coin drop with a soft clink onto the desk, snapping out of his feigned trance with a practiced flourish.
Eva stood before him, her tight uniform hugging her curvy figure—full chest, plump hips, thighs straining her short skirt.
Her green eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as she stepped back, her large blue bow bobbing.
"Me too? Wait! Underwear? Why?" Her voice mixed surprise and indignation, her arms crossing to accentuate her busty chest.
Lor leaned forward, his grin sly, his hazel eyes now free to linger on her curves.
"Maybe because your magic's stronger than Olivia's. The Light tailors its demands to your power." It was a flimsy excuse, pure mischief.
Eva's chuckle at Olivia's twerking had pricked his pride, and now he craved the sight of her curvy ass jiggling in panties.
The thought sent a thrill through him, but he kept his face earnest, masking his true intent.
Eva bit her lip, her green eyes darting between him and the fallen coin, her ambition wrestling with embarrassment.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice low. "But not here. I'll come to your house after class."
Lor's heart skipped, his grin spreading.
"Deal," he said, his voice warm, his eyes tracing her hips.
They packed their bags, the classroom emptying as the last bell echoed.
Eva slung her bag over her shoulder, her tight skirt swishing, and gave him a quick nod.
"See you later," she said, her green eyes holding determination tinged with nervousness.
They parted ways at the academy gates, her blue bow bouncing as she headed toward her house.
Lor turned toward his home, his steps light, his mind buzzing.
But as he rounded a corner near the academy's outer wall, two figures stepped into his path, their presence chilling.
Viora and Myra, Class D classmates, loomed with angry glares, their sexy, busty figures radiating menace.
Viora's green hair was tied in a messy ponytail, framing sharp features, her tight uniform accentuating ample breasts and curvy hips.
Her skirt hugged toned thighs, her green eyes blazing with fury.
Myra's brunette hair fell in soft waves, her blouse unbuttoned to show cleavage, her tight skirt outlining her round ass and long legs.
Both were busty, curves highlighted by uniforms that flattered their figures, but their vibe was hostile, their postures tense with protective anger.
Viora surged forward, shoving Lor's chest, forcing him back a step, her green eyes boring into his.
"What the hell are you pulling, Lor?" she snarled, voice low and venomous, her busty chest heaving as she grabbed his collar, yanking him close, her floral scent sharp with sweat.
"We saw you with Eva—some creepy ritual. And Olivia's blabbing about your 'Guiding Light' crap. Spill it!"
Myra stepped beside her, arms crossed, brown eyes glinting with cold rage, her blouse tightening over her chest.
"Don't play dumb," she hissed, her voice sharp as she leaned in, her breath hot on his face. "What'd you tell Olivia? Why's she acting like you're some monk?"
Lor stumbled from the shove, heart racing, but his grin stayed easy, hazel eyes flicking between them.
"Olivia? I barely remember what I said to her. My head's a mess—half the day's a blur. You know me, not exactly sharp." His tone was light, feigning ignorance, but his mind calculated their anger.
Myra's eyes narrowed, a mocking sneer curling her lips. "Oh, poor Lor, too dumb to keep up. Pathetic." Her pity was venomous, her arms tightening as she stepped closer, crowding his space, her curvy figure looming.
Viora's grip on his collar tightened, her green eyes flashing as she shoved him against the wall, the stone cold against his back.
"Don't bullshit us!" she snapped, her voice rising, her face inches from his. "We're not idiots just because we're Class D. That ritual with Eva—it's shady as hell. Olivia's acting brainwashed, and now Eva's all over you. You think you can scam us, messing with their heads?"
Myra's hand shot out, jabbing Lor's chest with a finger, her brown eyes icy.
"We were gonna drag you in front of Eva, but she's too far gone, she would have defended you like a puppy loyal to it's master. So listen up," she growled, her voice low and dangerous.
"Stop this creepy shit. No more rituals, no more 'Guiding Light.' We're watching you, Lor, and if you keep this up, we'll make sure you regret it." She leaned closer, her curvy figure towering, her glare promising pain.
Viora released his collar with a rough push, her green eyes burning.
"This is your only warning. Cross us again, and you're done." Her voice was a hiss, her busty figure trembling with barely restrained anger.
Lor steadied himself, unshaken, hazel eyes calm.
"Got it," he said simply, hands raised in mock surrender.
He didn't deny or fight back.
Why bother?
Their fury was raw, but sooner or later, their ambition for Class A would bring them to him, begging for the Guiding Light.
Class D's desperation was his leverage, and he'd play it perfectly.
Viora and Myra glared a moment longer, their curvy figures tense, then turned and stormed off, their uniforms accentuating every angry step.
Lor watched them go, his inner grin wide, mind plotting the next move in his dangerous, delicious game.