I turned. A girl, in a school uniform, my age, maybe a year younger, strode past. Blonde hair with soft curls at the ends, hazel eyes sharp and focused. She was a few inches shorter than , but her steps carried weight, like she owned the hallway.
She didn’t glance my way. Just headed straight down.
Niku and Darbi looked up as she reached the bottom. Niku nudged Darbi with an elbow, smirking. Darbi snorted.
The girl stopped a few paces away, planted one hand on her hip, and raised the other, slowly, deliberately, toward her bracelet. She adjusted it with a casual flick.
That was all.
Niku’s smirk vanished. Darbi’s eyes widened. Their faces darkened—fear, not anger. Without a word, they turned, grabbed their swords off the counter, and walked out the tavern door like scolded dogs. The door banged shut behind them.
The room stayed silent for a beat.
"The fuck?" I breathed.
"An S-student?" a man behind whispered to his companion.
"Was she staying here?"
Murmurs rose from the other onlookers.
"S-student?"
"So she is blessed by one of the nine?"
"No way..."
"Wow..."
"S, huh?" I muttered under my breath. "Wow."
The girl turned, hazel eyes sweeping the upstairs railing, taking in , the other gawkers who hadn’t moved a muscle to help. Her expression was flat, unimpressed.
"Cowards."
She exhaled through her nose, adjusted her bracelet again, sa casual motion, and walked out the front door without another word.
I didn’t wait. I hurried downstairs, dropping to my knees beside Kembeliona. He was conscious but dazed, blood dripping steadily from his nose, hands trembling as he tried to push himself up. Splinters jutted from his palms like cruel thorns.
"Hey, man," I said softly. "You okay? You hear ?"
"Uuugh..." He groaned, voice thick. "I... broke... sothing..."
I rembered the green glow from Dierthen’s hands. Heal. I had it now. Never cast it before, but I could feel it—like muscle mory I never earned.
I opened my palms toward him and exhaled slowly. Sothing warm stirred in my chest, then began to drain steadily, like water pouring out of . My hands glowed soft green, light pooling in my palms and spilling over Kembeliona’s face and chest.
"Hey," I said again, keeping my voice steady even as my pulse raced. "Stay with . This might feel weird."
The glow sank into him. Blood slowed from his nose. The cuts on his hands closed—slowly, flesh knitting together. His breathing eased.
A notification flickered at the edge of my vision.
MP dropping. Fast.
I glanced, twenty-sothing left in the pool. The spell was hungry. I gritted my teeth and kept going, pouring everything I could into it.
Kembeliona blinked up at , eyes clearing.
"Kid... what...?"
"You’re okay," I said, voice tight. "Just... hold still."
The glow faded. My hands trembled. MP bottod out low—barely a sliver left. Exhaustion hit like a second wave, but Kembeliona was sitting up now, wiping blood from his lip, looking dazed but whole.
That damn girl could’ve done this in two seconds before she left. Instead she called us cowards and walked away.
I sat back on my heels, breathing hard.
So hero I was.
But at least the old man was breathing. For now, that had to be enough.
Grabbing my helping hand, Kembeliona hauled himself up with a shaky grunt and leaned heavily against the wall, chest heaving as he fought for breath. Sweat and blood streaked his face. He wiped it away with the back of his trembling hand, then tried to take a step. His knees buckled almost imdiately.
I caught him by the shoulder before he could fall, dragged a chair over from the nearest table with a loud scrape, and eased him down into it.
The mont he sat, he slumped forward, elbow on the table, forehead resting in his palm like the weight of the world had just dropped on him. I stood there awkwardly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, guilt twisting in my gut. I’d bailed the second Niku and Darbi walked in. In his eyes I was probably just another coward who watched from the stairs.
"Sorry," I said quietly. "For... uh, leaving you alone with—"
"It wasn’t your place to intervene," he cut in, voice rough but not unkind. He lifted his head just enough to look at . "Cast an ice shard for , would you?"
"Huh?"
"To put on my chin." He tapped the swollen spot with two fingers, wincing.
"I... I can’t cast ice shards," I admitted. "Sorry."
"Can’t?"
"I’m still new to this whole magic thing, man." I turned to the small crowd of patrons and the people still peering down from the upstairs railing. "Hey, anyone here know how to cast an ice shard spell?"
Eyes darted between each other. One by one, shoulders shrugged. No one stepped forward. Fuck. Nobody could even manage sothing that simple? Or maybe it wasn’t simple at all. I still had no idea how the difficulty scale worked in this world.
Kembeliona let out a tired chuckle, then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a second. He rolled his shoulder slowly, face twisting in pain.
"You don’t wanna be late for school, kid," he said, voice softer now. "Go on. The healing spell actually helped... I feel a bit better already."
"I’m... not attending any school," I said carefully.
He opened one eye, frowning. "Are you dense, boy? It’s the law!" His tone sharpened with disbelief. "Have you been dodging the academy this entire ti you’ve been in the city?"
"I..."
I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth—that I’d been transported here after getting murdered by a psycho woman and her mother. And the law? Mandatory academy? That was the dumbest rule I’d ever heard. Back ho, school was just boring classes and howork. Here it sounded like forced magic boot camp, and I knew exactly zero about this world’s rules.
I scratched the back of my neck and spread my hands helplessly. "I... guess I’ve been avoiding it."
Kembeliona shook his head, clearly disappointed. "Are you even from here?"
"No," I admitted. "I’m from a village... really far away."
Well, once again... lies, lies, lies.
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