"...That's enough."
Damian stood there, holding Mara's fist effortlessly under everyone's eyes.
The gymnasium was already starting to gather a bigger crowd – seniors and other first-year students pushing through the doors to see what was happening.
Many commoners from other sections rushed toward their fallen and injured friends, panic and anger on their faces.
Damian's gaze swept across the scene.
Around forty heavily injured commoners were lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Some were bleeding. Others were unconscious.
Lysa, Edrin, and Ronan were among the most injured – their faces swollen, their clothes torn and bloodied.
Damian didn't say anything.
But his eyes started becoming colder and colder by the second.
Then he shifted his gaze toward the group of over twenty Nobles responsible for this – including Leonard, who stood at the front with his hands still casually in his pockets.
