After dimensional magic, it was time for the specialization lessons. Professor Nalear’s course was on forced hold. The number of students requiring a second evaluation had far exceeded expectations, a day hadn’t been enough.

Phloria had the rest of the morning free, while Lith and the others went to the Master Healer class. Once at the academy’s hospital, the students discovered that Professor Vastor had organized a small refreshment before officially starting the new trimester.

The class had gone down from thirty-four to twenty-eight student, and some of them had barely broke a C. Between those who had lost a friend and the ones terrified at the idea of suffering the same fate, very few were in the mood for celebration.

Vastor didn’t seem to notice, though, and even if the report cards were supposed to be a secret, it wasn’t hard to guess grades based on how he treated the different students. He devoted a lot of attention to Quylla and Lith, arousing the envy of many.

Those who like Professor Rudd were biased against commoners’ bloodlines, would have given an arm and a leg to get the opportunity to teach them a lesson.

Yet they were well aware that because of the Ballots, the best they could do was get demoted from unsuccesful mages to expelled ones. Not to mention that instead of being reprimanded, Vastor had received an award for beating unruly students during the mock exam.

“Keep working hard, my dear pupils. And remember what I said at the beginning of our lessons. After the second trimester the class will be halved. We will be lucky if twenty of you manage to actually graduate as healers.”