The room was silent.
Zareth stood in the center.
Jaxar groaned, rolling onto his side, blood pooling from his mouth. Eirak lay against the wall.
Then—
More footsteps.
The already tense atmosphere grew heavier as three figures entered the room.
Upperclassmen.
Caspian narrowed his eyes. He didn't recognize anyone of them, but judging from the way he casually walked past him and stopped beside Zareth—they were friends.
Zareth must have called them.
And then, without another word—
They moved—
The room exploded into violence once more.
The second-years barely had time to react before the third-years descended upon them like predators.
One of them dodged a panicked punch from a second-year, stepping in and slamming his knee into the guy's stomach.
Another third-year grabbed a student by the back of his head and smashed his face into the wooden crates. Blood splattered across the floor.
