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Damien sneered. “Don’t burn out your one brain cell. Who knows how long it would take for another one to replace it.”

Marth rolled his eyes, "Whatever...did you just come here to belittle me or did you actually have something important to say? I'm afraid I don't have the time nor patience to deal with little bastards like you."

“I was just on my way to complete a.. task.” He seemed to pause before saying the last word, almost as though he avoided talking about what he was doing.

Like Wisteria working for her fellow angels, Damien was secretly helping the demons. But his loyalty wasn’t with either species at all. In truth, he was merely acting the way he was.

"I'd advise you to be on your way then, there ain't no point wasting your breath on me." Marth got his armor back on, sheathing his sword. He returned inside the school to obtain another job.

Scowling at Marth, Damien went on his way.

"Mount Royai, eh? A slave trade's going on at the base of the mountain...sounds simple enough, though I might need an ally.." Marth said to himself as he was looking over the bounty, marking down areas on his map.

Wisteria was putting her things inside her locker even though the bell for class had long-since rang. There was something she needed in it to contact Derek, the angel in charge of Academy students of all age.

Marth was back leaning against the tree from earlier, marking down a few things, preparing for the journey to the mountains. "..It's gonna get cold, but the pay's more than worth it..."

(Is he gonna ask her for help, or are we going to stage something so that he sees she can be helpful?)

(Let's see if he finds her to be helpful.)

(Sure. It could be in gym class, advanced defense, or fighting skills.)

(Fighting skills would probably be the best. That's the only class he attends on a regular basis )

( Okay.)

Wisteria pulled her wavy red hair up in a ponytail, which she often wore everywhere. She was wearing black shorts halfway down her thighs, tennis shoes, and a black tank top. The angel stretched herself like she had been taught to do since she was four.

Marth was readying himself for the class, performing stretches like he would before any major battle. Readying his weapon for the class, Marth awaited for the instruction to begin, he looked around the class, studying the students.

Wisteria mindlessly touched her knife strapped to one of her thighs while waiting for the instructor to give out the day’s assignment.

(Who gets to be the teacher?)

(I could if you'd like.)

(I don't mind one way or another.)

(Alright.)

The instructor soon arrived in class, "We're gonna be jumping into sparring today. However, we'll be working in pairs. You've got five minutes to find a partner and get ready."

Marth began looking around at the various students, spotting a girl in a black tank top, approaching her.

She caught sight of Marth walking over. With her elf-like features, a nose often described as ‘cute’, and coke-bottle figure, people often assumed Wisteria couldn’t fight well. That was their first mistake.
Their second mistake was when they judged her experience from her age. She wasn’t 17 like her outward appearance suggested. Angels aged slower than humans, which meant she was actually 25 years old.

"You mind partnering up with me, miss?" Marth kindly asked, smiling a bit. "You seem capable, so perhaps we'll have some moderate success on the battlefield together."