Chapter 32: purpose

Eva stood at the center, hands on hips, her knit top straining over her full chest, her short skirt swishing to reveal flashes of lace.

Her green eyes scanned the group, fierce with purpose.

Olivia leaned against a dummy, arms crossed under her bust, her tight pants outlining her hips, her wavy bob fluttering in the breeze.

Nellie sat cross-legged in the grass, scribbling notes, her skirt clinging to her big ass, her braids bobbing.

Viora perched on an overturned crate, flipping a bead between her fingers, her green hair glinting, her skirt flashing red lace as she shifted.

Myra leaned against the fence, chewing a strand of hay, her brown hair sticking to her sweaty neck, her black lace panties peeking out as her skirt rode up.

Lor hovered at the edge, his loser act airtight—yawning, scratching his head, his black hair falling over his hazel eyes.

But he missed nothing, his mind racing with possibilities for the next ritual which he was sure was about to come, if it didn’t then he will make it.

Patience.

Eva took a deep breath, her dark blue hair catching the dying sunlight.

"This test is more than numbers or class points. It’s our shot to prove we’re not background characters in this academy. We’re not garbage. We’re not jokes."

Olivia nodded, her hazel eyes glinting. "Even Class C thinks we’re insects. If we match their weakest, we’ll shake their smug little world."

Nellie’s voice was small but steady, her gray-green eyes bright behind her glasses.

"We’re not alone anymore. That’s what matters. We’re doing this together." She was flushed, her skirt shifting to reveal her thick thighs.

She was not used to having someone to talk with, let alone friends.

Viora scoffed, but her usual edge was softer. "Let’s just beat their lowest scorer. I’ll take that as a win."

Myra cracked her knuckles. "If we outshoot half those smug bastards, I’ll moon the academy courtyard."

Eva smirked, then turned to Lor, her green eyes narrowing. "And you... any prophecies from your pervy Light?"

Lor shrugged, his grin lazy. "It’s sulking today. Says you’re all too stubborn to ask for its help."

His hazel eyes flicked over her curves, savoring the way her skirt flared.

The girls laughed, but the sound carried a sharp edge.

"Some pervy Guiding Light," Myra said, tossing a bead at him. "Can’t even guide yourself out of a ditch. You’re a walking paradox, Lor."

Olivia smirked, her blouse straining as she leaned forward, her wavy bob swaying.

"Yeah, how’s the Light’s chosen one such a magical disaster? You need to give yourself a ritual to fix

you

." Her hazel eyes twinkled as she handed him a bead, her fingers brushing his.

Viora snorted, her green hair swaying, her red lace flashing as she stood.

"The Light’s probably embarrassed to claim this loser," she said, but she nudged his arm, adjusting his wrist. "Hold it higher, idiot. Like I showed Nellie."

Nellie beamed, her braids bouncing, her skirt clinging to her big ass.

"You can do it, Lor. If I can, anyone can." she said, her gray-green eyes sparkling as she tossed him another bead, her thick thighs trembling with excitement.

Lor played along, his spells fizzling pathetically, veering into the grass like drunken fireflies.

He stumbled, groaning theatrically, his black hair sticking to his forehead.

"Guess I’m hopeless," he moaned, collapsing onto a ward stone, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

The girls’ teasing stung, but their willingness to teach him—sharing Eva’s wrist-flicking trick, Olivia’s core-breathing method, Viora’s needle-threading focus, Myra’s steady posture, Nellie’s cautious aim—impressed him.

Their beads hit closer to the dummies each time, their laughter and curses filling the air, their uniforms clinging to sweaty curves.

Lor lounged against a ward stone, his black hair falling over his hazel eyes, his posture slouched and lazy.

He stayed silent, his grin subtle, watching the girls’ progress with feigned disinterest.

But his mind churned, noting their improving aim, their growing confidence.

He tossed a chalk bead into the air, catching it with a lazy flick, and murmured, almost to himself, "Wonder if the Guiding Light could sharpen a whole group’s precision at once. Probably too much for it, though."

His voice was soft, barely audible, but he saw Eva’s head tilt, her green eyes catching his.

The girls paused, their beads hovering midair.

Eva’s skirt swished as she turned, her hands on her hips, her dark blue hair shimmering.

"What was that, Lor?" she asked, her voice sharp but curious, her lace-trimmed thigh-highs flashing. "You think your creepy Light could help us all at once?"

Olivia’s wavy bob swayed, her tight blouse straining as she crossed her arms, her hazel eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, what’s the catch? Another pervy ritual?" Her tone was teasing, but her flush betrayed interest.

Nellie’s braids quivered, her gray-green eyes wide behind her glasses, her thick thighs shifting under her skirt.

"A group ritual?" she whispered, her voice trembling with nervous excitement, her big ass swaying slightly.

Viora snorted, her green hair glinting, her red lace panties peeking out as she adjusted her skirt, wincing from yesterday’s ritual.

"Sounds like a scam to get us all half-naked," she said, but her hazel eyes flickered with intrigue.

Myra smirked, her brown hair sticking to her sweaty neck, her black lace flashing as she leaned forward.

"If it’s half as good as what got Nellie hitting targets, I’m listening," she said, her tone grudging but eager.

Lor shrugged, his grin lazy, his hazel eyes glinting.

"The Light’s picky. It’d need something... big to guide a whole group. I’d have to ask it." He tossed the bead again, letting the idea hang, knowing their ambition would do the rest.

Eva exchanged a look with Olivia, then nodded.

"Fine. Let’s see what your stupid Light wants. But not here—too open." She jerked her head toward the old storage shed at the field’s edge, its rusted door half-hidden by overgrown vines.

"In there. Now."

The shed was cramped, its air thick with dust and the faint hum of dormant mana crystals.

A single lantern flickered, casting golden shadows across the girls’ curvy figures as they crowded inside, their uniforms clinging to sweaty skin.

Lor closed the door, his posture still slouched, his voice low.

"The Light needs to see your commitment," he said, pulling the coin from his pocket, his fingers twitching with a subtle pulse of magic.