The sun is nearly setting, casting a warm glow across the sky that many would find beautiful. Yet, aside from the calm it brings, he doesn't feel inclined to admire it.

Federico follows a strict schedule, always returning promptly to his avuncle's. But today, he's about five minutes later than usual.

If not for an absurd misunderstanding with those Liberi scholars, he wouldn't be running late—or have blood on his nose.

He knows the Liberi are not Sankta and may not fully understand him. Still, resorting to violence wasn't exactly the most reasonable choice for an adult.

Federico wipes the blood from his nose as he continues walking home.

He must think of an explanation when Avuncle Marcello hears about this.