Isolde rubbed her chin, a pensive frown creasing her brow. Considerations flashed through her mind about the effects of turning a boy into a girl, about the impact on their mental state, and about the safest punishment period—enough to make an example, but not to break Adam.
All the while, she muttered. "Too long, and he'll lose his self-esteem. He might not want to go back, or worse, commit suicide out of shame, mockery, and resentment."
The surrounding girls buzzed, calling out to her and requesting the harshest punishment. But she shook her head and raised a gnarled finger. "Twenty-four hours. Not a spell, but a curse that'll fade on its own."
She waved her hand before even finishing.
Dark mana swirled around Adam, haunting whistles causing the corridor's lights to dim. They flickered like candle flames burning through their last shred of wax, each shadow cast on the ground, the walls, and the ceiling dancing in ominous patterns.
