'Looks like it will go as expected,' Trafalgar thought.
That meant force had finally entered the room.
Selara lifted her gun first. Mana threaded through the weapon, sank into the special round already waiting inside the chamber, and the shot tore across Matteo's reinforced room toward Esmond before anyone bothered pretending this could remain a conversation.
The bullet never reached him.
A compact shield of mana unfolded in front of its path, pale and dense, appearing with such speed that the air cracked around it. The bullet struck the barrier, flattened against the surface, and dropped to the floor with a hiss of spent power. The shield faded almost at once, leaving Esmond untouched, his expression carrying that soft disappointment only truly rotten teachers could use without shame.
He turned toward Selara. "Truly, my little one? You shoot your master?"
Selara's arm did not lower.
Esmond moved one finger.
The homunculus saw it.
