Field Trip II

Dean Godsthorn office was a picture of order and simplicity. The room featured polished wooden floors, a few shelves lined with ancient tomes, and soft sunlight streaming through enchanted glass windows. The old man had requested some renovation just a few days ago.

Behind the desk, a section of the wall shifted soundlessly, revealing a hidden door that blended seamlessly into the surroundings.

From the concealed doorway emerged Dean Godsthorn, his grand white robe shimmering faintly in the soft light. His beard was immaculately combed, and his posture was as straight as the ancient oak trees surrounding the academy.

With a satisfied smirk, the Dean adjusted his robe and muttered to himself, "Nothing like emptying the storage to feel truly alive. Ah, what a relief." Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he walked to his chair, ready to resume his work.

Before he could sit down, there was a sharp knock at the door.