The ground shook as fire rushed forward. Maniacal laughter echoed in the room while Azrael swaggered to the brown haired man struggling to stay alive.

Angharad cast a shield of snow around him and his apprentices right before they hit the walls. The shield supplied by their bracelets managed to slow down the blast, and Angharad’s shield protected them from the impact. The cost of casting such a spell quickly, with barely any control was seen on the frost gathering at the edges of his frayed robes and shivering arms.

He trembled and leaned his back on the pillar twice his width. Blood oozed from the scratches on his face.

As luck would have it, Azrael could not use his full power thanks to being contained within Noah’s body. Otherwise, they would have been burned to ashes by now. Not like he would have unleashed his full power in this place anyway. He knew, from the feeling of spatial magic in the air, that they were underground. There was no point converting such a dingy place into Noah’s grave.

He just got summoned afterall.

“That was a very powerful protection spell,” Azrael said. “You’d have survived unscathed if you didn’t spread it out to your little underlings.” His gaze wandered to the five individuals groaning in pain and struggling to keep their eyes open.

“But in the end, it does not matter.”

Angharad closed his eyes one last time with a grimace. He knew only a miracle could save him now.

With a flick of his wrist, Azrael’s flames whipped around to attack the brown haired man once more. However, the flames extinguished before it could even reach Angharad. Azrael frowned and tried again.

Again and again and again.

“Why won’t my flames touch you?!” Azrael yelled in frustration. Angharad was just as confused as he was.

“This is against our contract,” a soft voice whispered in Azrael’s mind. “Cease this foolishness at once.”

The transparent body of Noah manifested to protect the professor. His arms were crossed and an annoyed expression was on his face. He looked at Professor Angharad with a quick glance and realised the man could not see him.

“Our contract states that I will help you control your elemental affinity,” Azrael spoke telepathically.

“False,” Noah said with a grin as he leaned down to look directly into the eyes of someone wearing his own face. An odd nostalgic feeling bloomed in his heart that he quickly ignored. “It says you will help me graduate. It says nothing about just helping me with my primary element. And killing the professor violates the terms of our contract because if he dies, I will be expelled.”

Azrael tilted his head and eyed the spirit form of Noah with calculating eyes. “Sneaky little mouse,” he said with a smirk.

“You should have read the fine print,” Noah said. Even if they signed the contract with a kiss, the terms and conditions manifested in his mind and etched itself into his soul. “Now give me my body back. I have to do some damage control if I don’t want to be executed.”

“Fine.”

Azrael looked at the flabbergasted Angharad. “Luck is on your side today, human.”

He closed his eyes and fell into the crevices of Noah’s soul.

Everything spun around as Noah was hit with the feeling of vertigo when he took back control of his body. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the palm of his hands before he fell face first on the ground. He pressed his hand over his mouth.

He almost spat out his lunch.

Mana thrummed gently through his body as he breathed in slowly. He could feel it flowing around his veins like a smooth carefree river. Azrael already began working to guide his mana through the fragile veins in his body.

Exhaustion made Noah’s whole being ache, but this feeling of freedom? It was exhilarating. He never felt this light before. Could this be what it felt like to not have Imperfekta? No, he still has it, but it’s much more controlled and subdued.

He straightened up with shaky knees. Water splashed around his boots where puddles gathered on the ground thanks to the melting ice his spirit guide left behind. The magic circle he drew tirelessly washed away with every droplet falling on the stone floor.

Scattered in all directions were the apprentice aides groaning in pain. Two of them were in a state of unconsciousness. Noah hoped they didn’t hit their head on the wall when the fire and magic shields collided.

How does one even do damage control for this? Noah has never been good at negotiating, which was a huge disappointment to his mother. Should he try to contact the family lawyer? It might be for the best.

The professor struggling to stay up used one of the pillars to lean on while he clutched at his bleeding and frostbitten arm. A shark-like smile appeared on Noah’s face as he approached the man.

"Let me help, sir."

Surely, doing a small good deed should help with damage control, right?

Magic gathered around his hands and a quiet murmur escaped his lips. The spell to ease pain was cast with a gentle warm light. His friends Carmela and Nomusa have been teaching him the theory of a simple healing spell before. Nomusa demonstrated it to him after pestering her for a few days.

The wound she healed on him felt like someone blowing on his skin.

Noah never thought he’d ever get to cast even a simple healing spell because of his Imperfekta, but now, he was excited at the possibility of fulfilling his dream to become a healer.

Blood dripped down his nose just as his focus was cut off by the professor’s grunt of pain.

“Too much!” Professor Angharad said angrily. “Did you not know not to use healing spells stained with fire essence against frostbite? You’re going to make it worse! That aside, your fire essence made the healing spell too hot! Don’t try to cast it again until you can have full control over your mana.”

The professor shot him a suspicious look. “On a side note, where did you even learn that spell? You’re not part of the Medela classes.”

“Ah, I read it from a book,” Noah lied. “I apologise, I only wanted to help.”

If the professor found out about Carmela and Nomusa teaching him spells he wasn’t meant to know, they’ll be in huge trouble. Well, Carmela would be fine because of her status–but Nomusa, who was reliant on her scholarship as the top student–will not be unscathed.

“Another reason to have you behind bars,” Professor Angharad muttered under his breath, but Noah heard him loud and clear. “I hope you haven’t forgotten, but only those with a license are allowed to use healing magic on people.”

Noah did forget about that, but his professor didn’t need to know. He wiped the blood that dripped down his nose with the back of his hand. The basics of healing magic was still far from his reach if such a simple spell made his nose bleed. He didn’t even use much mana!

“Of course not! How about visiting the Orion hospital? We have the best of the best healers and they’ll take good care of you there,” Noah said, his smile brightening.

“Hmph. Don’t try to bribe me, von Vinter. It won’t work.”

“What do you mean? I’m just trying to help,” Noah replied. Out of all the professors he had to deal with right now, why must it be the one who hates his family–and by extension, him–the most?

Warm healing water gathered around Angharad's injured arms and Noah watched with fascination as the red tips of his frostbitten finger gradually turned a normal color. Once that was done, sharp eyes looked at Noah with a glare and golden ropes bound the students' hands together with a swing of his fingers.

“Professor?” Noah asked, confusion clear in his voice.

“To make sure you don’t run off,” Angharad said and straightened up to summon a small butterfly made up of purple smoke. It fluttered on the tips of his finger while the professor whispered a message for it to deliver.

With a flap of its wings, the tiny insect vanished into thin air.

It travelled through a corridor only it could fit in and landed on a bouquet of glass flowers on a coffee table. The butterfly vanished as it was absorbed into the flower, turning it into a lovely swirling night sky.

“Sir, we have a problem,” the voice of Professor Angharad echoed from the plant.

A man in his late 70s, tall and stern, looked up from his desk. The quill he held stopped their movements while he listened to the words. The message was short and concise. The petals wilted and fell, turning into crystalline dust before they landed on the surface of a long coffee table.

“The von Vinter child summoned a demon and let it run wild. The execution has failed, I will bring the boy to you.”