The dust from Dila's accidental explosion had barely settled, and the students slowly shuffled back into formation, their robes brushing against the uneven ground. A nervous energy lingered in the air, mixed with awe and a dash of fear. Some students tried to channel their mana into their brooms again, but for many, it wobbled uncontrollably or simply refused to lift off. A few managed to sync the broom to their mana, but their balance was shaky at best—they teetered and leaned dangerously before collapsing onto the ground with soft thuds.
Professor Galahad's eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he stifled a chuckle. He cleared his throat dramatically, puffing out his chest and pretending to be stern. "Ahem... let's try to maintain some dignity while flying, shall we?" His voice carried lightly across the field, and the students scrambled to hide their embarrassment, some reddening while others muttered under their breath.
