Sixty-two. The End.

Pris Aristocrat Academy, Principal's Office.

Rain gently pattered against the window, tranquility flowing through the room.

A middle-aged man with graying temples, dressed in a suit, sat behind a desk, his quill trembling slightly as he wrote on a sheet of parchment.

Thud thud thud—

The sound of knocking echoed, but the middle-aged man did not lift his head, speaking in a deep voice, "Come in."

The door quietly opened, and a figure in a white dress drifted into the office.

After a moment of silence, the man in the suit looked up and saw a pale girl standing behind the desk without a word. He frowned, "Hello, are you a student at the academy? Do you need something from the principal's office?"

"Why did you expel me?" the girl spoke softly.

A student who had been advised to withdraw?