The day came faster than Dante could have ever assumed. He tugged on his new uniform. It was amour-like, a silver chest plate with the Lamronba crest and elbow and knee pads.
The auditorium was packed with different classes, the higher your years, the higher up you sat. Dante's class only took up two benches at the very bottom. Rich was near the end of the last bench, slurping on a milkshake and seemingly content with watching these children possible kill each other. Dante however started thinking of more darker thoughts now the topic of death was in the air. He wondered how this school experience would be without the looming threat of never making it to summer. How the graduates this year holding up, knowing they don't have the balance of the school to stress over or the plunder of four vengeful goddesses. Without that, this school would probably be considered normal. Or as normal as you can get with a school that has raakshas, telepaths and enchantresses.