Aaralon begins to grin devilishly as a plan forms in his mind.
"I asked you a question, Aaralon," Professor Emylia replied. Her eyes blazed with anger, but merely kept up his defiant stance.
He took in the Professors lithe frame. She was 20 years his senior, but that was of little consequence. The demonesses venom had stirred something within him that would not be quelled.
"I demand an answer immediately, boy," the professor demanded. "We have rules here, and I expect those rules to be follow...oHHH,"!
Aaralon had hurled the remaining orb at the professor with scarcely a second thought. It shattered over Professor Emylia, and covered her in a crimson glow momentarily. She fell back against the doorframe with a cry and tried vainly to summon up a countercharm, but the damage was already done.
She no longer wanted to break whatever charm he had lain on her. All she could bring herself to think of was the sinewy young man before her, and the massive weapon which stood half obscured by his robes. |