The mont Verena saw the disaster unfolding, every instinct in her body shrieked at her to do sothing.
Her feet took off before her brain could catch up. She was about to charge in, ready to put an end to this cliched, trope-ridden nonsense before it spiraled out of control.
"Ugh, this whole novel is just one giant, walking cliché. Even my existence here feels like a bad trope I can't escape!—ARGH!?!!"
An invisible force bodied her out of nowhere, slamming her down like a misbehaving protagonist hitting an unskippable cutscene.
Her limbs locked up, her muscles stiffened, and it felt like gravity itself had personally decided, 'Nah, sit this one out.'
She struggled, but no, her body wasn't budging.
[Debuff Applied: Plot Shackles]
What the hell?!
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[WARNING: Sudden Plot Shift Detected!]
[Interference at this mont will trigger a DEATH FLAG.]
"HUH???"
She struggled, but it was like trying to move through wet cent.
Her fingers twitched. Her legs refused to budge. She was trapped.
"A-Are you okay?!" Beatrice hurried over, her eyes wide with confusion and concern.
"I-I'm fine..."
She was NOT fine.
"You... don't look fine."
Her body still refused to move, anwhile, destruction brewed right in front of her, and all she could do was stand there like a decorative plant. "Just... just give a mont to process how the universe hates ."
At the center, Evelyn stood there like a tragic painting.
Soaked, humiliated, yet weirdly... calm.
No fists clenched, no fiery retorts, just standing there like she was mildly inconvenienced by a drizzle instead of getting publicly drenched in food and insults.
This was exactly why Verena wanted to shake this girl.
"Oh, don't play innocent now, Evelyn," she sneered. "You humiliated our entire group earlier in the combat exercise. We lost because of you."
Evelyn's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.
"Honestly," the woman continued, tilting her head dramatically, "why are you even here? You flinched at every attack, hesitated at the worst monts, and completely botched our formation. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for the rest of us?"
Her henchgirls snickered behind her, nodding along.
Evelyn fidgeted with the soaked hem of her uniform. "I-I just... I didn't want anyone to get hurt..."
"And yet, you did. Yourself, mostly. And now you're playing the victim? How convenient."
A murmur of agreent rippled through the onlookers.
"Who touched her?"
Norvan's voice was soft, but sothing about it sent a collective shiver down everyone's spine.
He erged from the crowd, golden eyes gleaming like a predator that had just locked onto its prey.
His long green hair, always slightly unkempt, swayed as he moved forward with a deliberate slowness. His expression was neutral. Almost kind, almost gentle.
But there was sothing off about him.
A slight tension in his jaw.The way his fingers flexed and unflexed at his sides.The faintest frown tugging at his brows.
"Oh, Lord Norvan, you misunderstand. We were rely teaching Lady Evelyn a lesson about teamwork."
Norvan's gaze flicked down to Evelyn's drenched uniform, the remains of food clinging to the fabric. His eyes darkened.
"How thoughtful of you," he murmured. "But tell ... were you also teaching her when you dumped your plate on her head?"
"Oh, we were just reminding her of her place—"
CRACK!
Norvan just grabbed table beside him with his hand. It didn't break.
He was never the strongest.
Compared to his stepbrother, the actual warlord, he was just a shadow, lurking at the edges, unnoticed, underestimated.
What he lacked in brute force, he made up for with sheer, ruthless intelligence.
But this wasn't the cold, calculating Norvan she rembered from the novel.
There was an edge to him now. Sharper, darker, dangerously unrestrained.
"P-Please, Norvan, just leave alone!" Evelyn's voice rang out, sharp and desperate.
For the first ti, everyone heard her scream.
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.
Evelyn, sweet, docile, ever-agreeable Evelyn, was actually pushing back? Against him?
No wonder Norvan looked like he was about to murder soone.
He wasn't used to the girl being beyond his reach.
Was this it? Was the little lamb finally slipping from the wolf's grasp?
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