In one of the spacious halls of the Academy of Magicians there was a regular meeting of Professors and Masters. Everyone sat around a carved wooden table, at the head of which sat the Principal. Most of the time he just listened, and his face did not show his boredom. Only once did a playful sparkle flash in his eyes.

"The students have formed a secret dueling club, you say?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his seat. An amused smile appeared on his lips. “Oh, I wish I could take part,” said the air mage, and his quiet laughter echoed through the hall with a pleasant rustle.

Some Professors, those who had worked at the Academy quite recently, looked at each other in confusion. Does the Principal really encourage such dangerous activities among his students? Indeed, there were many different rumors surrounding the figure of Garmsil. Maintaining the image of a carefree, frivolous joker, he often raised doubts about the fairness of his position.

“I think the Prefects and Student Council will take control of the situation,” Garmsil added in the meantime. The faces of those who had doubts relaxed slightly. Yes, that was the Director’s management style. You just need to spread the sails, catch the right wind, so that strong currents will carry your boat in the right direction.

“Still, keep me posted,” Garmsil finished, relaxing again in his chair.

The wind can change at any moment, but a good captain always keeps an eye on the weather.

"Anything else?" asked the Principal, running his gaze over the faces of his subordinates.