Robert continued to watch Adlet with narrowed eyes, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, the veins at his temple lightly pulsing from the tension.
The boy's speed hadn't changed in the slightest. The same steady, almost leisurely rhythm of jogging—utterly indifferent to the shout hurled his way moments ago—remained constant.
It was as if Adlet hadn't even heard him.
That stung more than Robert wanted to admit.
He turned his gaze toward the center of the field where Instructor Griselda stood like a sentinel.
Her arms were loosely crossed as her eyes kept moving across the running students.
Her posture radiated authority, and yet… she showed no reaction to Adlet's blatant disregard
Robert's brow twitched again.
'She's not going to say anything?' he thought with disbelief.
Because, without the teacher's command, his hands were tied.
Authority without sanction meant nothing, and Robert knew better than to cross Griselda's line without permission.
