Chapter 20: Spell control drill
The classroom smelled like sweat, charred fabric, and desperation.
Miss Silvia stood near the front, fanning herself with a test paper, her tight white jacket clinging to her chest from a recent spark burst. A red mark still smoked on the target wall, and one girl in the second row had singed the hem of her skirt trying to launch a mana pulse.
"Alright," Silvia called out, her voice bright but brittle. "Eva, you're up. Spell control drill — center mark."
Eva stood, tugging down the back of her skirt with one hand as it clung tight to her ass. Her thick thighs flexed as she stepped out from her desk, her breasts bouncing subtly under the too-tight uniform blouse. She didn't speak, just adjusted the large blue bow on her head and walked to the front — each sway of her hips earning quiet glances.
Lor slouched in the back row, elbow on his desk, chin resting on his palm, eyes half-lidded.
Viora snorted under her breath. "Watch her overshoot again."
"Or burn a hole through her own boobs," Myra murmured, loud enough for only a few to hear.
Eva took her stance. Her blouse was clinging — tight enough to show the slight indent between her breasts, the buttons straining at the top. Her chest rose slowly as she inhaled — not shallow, but deep. Low. Exactly how Lor had shown her.
Fingertips steady, she raised her hand.
The air shimmered.
A soft flick of pressure darted forward — barely visible mana — and struck the dummy square in the center. Not powerful. But dead-on.