THIRD PERSON'S POV
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Everyone stayed silent as Zoe stormed out.
Ivy stared at Donald's reddened cheek, her tongue subconsciously poking the inside of hers before she spoke.
"That's gotta hurt."
"Ivy, honey… not now. Just keep drawing," Albert said calmly, already returning to his notes.
Ivy pursed her lips but didn't argue.
Donald sighed and picked up her sketchbook, extending it toward her—then paused, eyes lingering on the page longer than necessary.
Ivy simply took it from him.
"Thanks."
He nodded absently, still staring at the sketchbook now back in her hands.
No one had a reason to stay. One by one, they left, the tension lingering long after.
Nanny Gloria's burial was set for a week later.
With the help of sorcerers, Country A's capital was restored to its former glory.
But no glitter or glamour could fix what had been lost.
The Vice President, Frederic Da Vinci, and his first son, Gabriel Da Vinci, returned immediately.
Nanny Gloria, alongside many others, was laid to rest in a grand ceremony—one final, beautiful farewell from the people of Country A.
"Dad, I want to transfer to Country H's academy."
Frederic paused mid-motion, knife still against the apple.
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Current Location: Country A's Main Medical Center
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He looked at his daughter—bruised, bandaged, lying still on the hospital bed.
"Why the sudden decision? Is something wrong with your school? Are they not training you well? Are supplies—"
"Dad."
Nora cut him off gently.
"My school's fine. I just…"
Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets, gaze drifting over her injuries.
"I just want to..." Her hands loosened on the sheets then gripped it back again. "Please."
Frederic studied her for a moment, then resumed peeling the apple.
"…Alright. After you recover, I'll arrange it. Renzo will help you settle in."
"Thank you, Dad."
He offered her a small smile and handed her the apple.
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One week later — Country H Academy
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Classes resumed.
Even with the recent attack, there was no room for mourning. That was what set this academy apart.
"Silence, everyone. Settle down."
A stern-looking woman with glasses entered, and the chatter died instantly.
"I am Mrs. Marcello, your new SD professor."
**(Author's note: SD — Supernatural Defense)**
Without further introduction, she turned to the projector. The room dimmed.
"As you know, humans have long been at war with supernaturals. Only a few countries accept them. Do not be deceived by appearances—supernaturals will eliminate threats without hesitation. Humans...same"
A brief pause.
"This is the foundation of this academy. Open your notes. We begin again from the basics."
Books rustled. Screens lit up.
Some time later, same class—
"Supernatural threats are classified into grades—one through twelve.
At the lower levels are creatures with distinct physical traits. For example, a Fromilet—found in slums, with skin resembling that of frogs. They spit fire and prey on animals."
She clicked to the next slide.
"At the highest level are godlike entities. We have yet to encounter one. Vampires, werewolves, and similar species fall just below."
A hand slowly rose.
A timid boy with freckles and glasses.
"Yes?"
"Ma'am… the attack on Country A… what grade would those be?"
A ripple went through the class.
"They didn't look like creatures…"
"What if they were Grade One?"
"Seriously? Then how did Team 15's rookie take them down that easily?"
"No way. That had to be at least Grade Ten—"
"Silence."