That evening.
The clearing where the enumeration was held buzzed with tension.
Beneath the tall banners of the Velmoria Academy, students formed uneven lines—tired, scraped, mud-covered, and more emotionally destroyed than a failed midterm right before winter break.
Professors sat at long, enchanted tables, clipboards floating beside them, noting gem counts as the long line of third-year students approached, one by one.
"I got one," a bruised student mumbled, holding up a single red gem like a defeated lottery winner.
The nearest professor, a thin man with ink-stained fingers, raised an eyebrow. "One?"
"Y-yeah. I almost died four times."
The professor looked at the guy from head to toe, only to shake his head.
"Next!"
The next in line walked up, smiling.
"I got two!" He said proudly. "One was under a giant toad, and the other one tried to teleport away from me. I may have insulted its mother to make it stay."
