Janitor System

Wesley took a steady breath, his heart still drumming from the sheer weight of the reward screen hovering in his mind’s eye.

The thought of earning a real Knight Skill and actual silver coins had him feeling as if he’d just drunk three pots of the academy’s strongest mana-brewed tea.

And yet, the thrill was replaced by a new awareness.

There’s no way I’m finishing this if they start walking around. Or if the students get in the way. I need the arena clear.

Without wasting another second, he walked briskly toward Instructor Heiron, who had been casually waving off some of his students’ loud chatter and jokes.

"Sir Heiron," Wesley called out respectfully, pausing a few steps short. "Do we need to hurry and clear the arena right away?"

Instructor Heiron, caught off guard, turned to look at him. He stared at Wesley for a few long seconds, as though weighing something behind his eyes.

Then he shrugged gently and replied, "No, not at all. Let them have a moment to enjoy themselves. No need to rush."

That single phrase made Wesley’s heart leap. A glint passed through his eyes like sunlight off a blade. With a quick bow, he smiled broadly. "Thank you, sir."

He turned, walked away slowly—then the moment his back was to Heiron, he launched himself with a joyful skip toward the other cleaners, who were already starting to gather their tools.

He slid to a stop before them and turned with a dramatic sweep of his mop like it was a nobleman’s rapier.