Chapter 20: Bear With It
As the action died down, each student took a breather, breaths ragged and shoulders slumped. The air hung thick with smoke, the scent of scorched fur and singed bark lingering in their noses. Reactions varied—some students sat on the ground in silent awe, others trembled at the sight of blood and motionless wolf corpses, while a few stared blankly, numbed by adrenaline and disbelief. For some, this was their first true brush with death. For others, it barely scratched the surface of their fear.
Silas, perched atop the undead bear's back, casually patted its matted head. The creature rumbled low, its exposed ribs expanding like bellows. He watched the students with a lazy sort of amusement, as if he were a judge at a festival rather than a peer who had just led them into battle.
"I give you a ten out of ten," he said with exaggerated cheer.
The students turned to him, their expressions mixed with irritation and disbelief. A few raised eyebrows; others frowned outright.
"You didn't even try to help," someone called out, their voice edged with accusation.
The student who had launched the powerful punch spell—runes still faintly glowing along his arms—stepped forward, his expression sharp and unimpressed. He spoke aloud what most of them were thinking.
Silas leapt down from the bear in one fluid motion, landing with a dancer's grace. He straightened, bowing slightly in a mocking gesture.
"Oh come on... I'm sure none of you wants to get babied by a fellow classmate, right?"
He brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder, flashing a smirk.