"But you do look fully bad, Cassius."
A soft, soothing voice called out from behind , slicing through the haze of exhaustion clouding my mind.
I turned my head stiffly, my body screaming in protest, to see who it was.
Standing there, amidst the scorched red earth and broken terrain, was a familiar figure:
A young woman with golden blonde hair cascading like sunlight, and striking violet eyes that shimred gently under the fading light.
She wore the sa white uniform adorned with intricate golden linings, immaculate despite the chaos surrounding us.
Freya Winterbane.
A smile tugged at the corner of my bloodied lips. I forced myself to pivot fully toward her, trying my best to hide the limp in my steps.
Chuckling, I said, "Hey, I’m not that bad... maybe."
I was lying through my teeth.
My body was on the verge of collapse, every muscle aching, brain half-fried from mana overuse.
But no way in hell was I letting her know that.
Freya gave a soft, knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusent. "If you say so... but do take a rest, Cassius. You look like you’ll fall over any second."
I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, feeling the dried blood crack along my skin. "Yeah, yeah... I’ll rest. Just need to find a good spot to crash first."
She sighed lightly, as if dealing with an especially stubborn child.
Without another word, she reached up and tapped her necklace—a delicate, silver ornant embedded with a ruby gemstone.
With a soft flicker of light, a small vial appeared in her hand—a vial filled with a deep crimson liquid.
She held it out to with a gentle smile. "Here. Take this. It’ll stabilize your condition."
I didn’t hesitate.
Gratefully, I snatched the vial from her hand and downed it in one gulp, the liquid burning a warm trail down my throat before spreading through my battered body.
Almost imdiately, I felt the effects.
My muscles loosened.
The burning in my brain dulled.
My breathing steadied.
I exhaled heavily, wiping away the stray drops from my lips with the back of my hand.
"You can... do that?" I asked, a little surprised.
Freya nodded, her expression calm and composed. "The exam restricts us from using external inventories—not our own tools. As long as I prepared beforehand and kept the items on or inside personal storage, I can use them freely."
After explaining, she tilted her head slightly, violet eyes studying .
"You didn’t know that?"
I stared at her blankly for a second, blinking.
’What do you think, girl? If I knew that, would I be standing here half-dead, covered in blood, and missing a damn sword? Use your brain cells, woman!’
Of course, I didn’t actually say that.
Instead, I smiled sheepishly and scratched my cheek. "Yeah... no, I didn’t. That’s why I don’t even have a weapon now."
Her eyes widened in horror.
"You were fighting that drake without any weapons?!"
I quirked an eyebrow. "How did you think I was fighting? Do you see any sword or spear lying around here?"
Freya’s cheeks flushed pink in embarrassnt.
She quickly averted her gaze, muttering, "Yeah... you’re right. That’s... impressive."
While she fumbled for words, my attention flicked past her—and then I froze.
Behind Freya, a sea of people stretched out across the rocky, reddish landscape.
Dozens of examinees—maybe fifty or more—stood in loose formation, so looking tense, others cautious, all casting wary glances around the area.
An entire group.
’Was she building a freaking army while I was busy getting smashed into the dirt by a baby dragon?’
Leaning closer to Freya, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "When did you create an army?"
She blinked, confused. "Army? What army?"
Following my gaze, she turned her head, finally realizing what I ant.
Her violet eyes softened, and she gave a serene, almost innocent smile.
"We just t along the way," she said simply. "Instead of fighting each other for survival, we decided it was better to cooperate. To help each other pass the examination together."
She let out a small sigh, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Surprisingly, everyone agreed. No betrayals. No backstabbing. At least... not yet."
Her voice grew softer near the end, a flicker of doubt crossing her expression.
I studied her for a mont, amused.
Trusting people so easily... Freya really was too good for this hellhole of a world.
’Actually nearly each of the heroines were like that, weren’t they?’
Still, I couldn’t deny it—the strategy was smart.
Forming alliances, gathering strength in numbers—it was a textbook tactic for survival.
I folded my arms across my chest, feeling my body slowly, finally starting to recover thanks to the potion.
"You’re too kind for your own good, Freya," I said, smirking. "Let’s just hope none of your new ’friends’ decide to stab you in the back."
She smiled again, a small but unwavering light in her eyes.
"If they try... I’ll just have to trust that you’ll protect , won’t you, Cassius?"
I stared at her for a long second.
Then laughed—a genuine, raw laugh that echoed across the broken landscape.
"Yeah," I said finally, tapping my knuckles lightly against her shoulder. "I’ll watch your back. Promise. That’s what friends are for, right?"
She humd softly in response, the sound barely audible over the crunch of the cracked, rocky ground beneath our feet.
Without waiting for any protest, she gently took my hand in hers.
"Co on," Freya said, her voice filled with an almost childlike excitent. "Let introduce you to the others."
I let myself get dragged along, grumbling under my breath, "But is it really necessary, Freya?"
She glanced over her shoulder at , smiling so sweetly it was almost criminal.
"You’ve changed from a pacifist to a fist-first brute," she teased, "but even then, you’re still scared of socializing."
I rolled my eyes dramatically. "So things don’t change, you know."
Freya sighed, a heavy, theatrical sound. "You just don’t want to change."
I gasped, placing a hand over my chest as if mortally wounded. "How did you know?!"
Without missing a beat, she grinned mischievously and said, "I’m a witch."
I imdiately pulled my hand free from hers, my face turning serious.
Dropping to the ground with exaggerated urgency, I started patting around the rocky soil, pretending to search for sothing.
Puzzled, she tilted her head. "What are you looking for?"
I looked up at her with a flat expression. "I’m searching for wood to burn the witch."
The words ca out deadpan, but inside, I was already laughing at my own joke.
A beat of silence fell between us.
No trees. No bushes. Just rocky, cracked earth and the reddish soil like dried blood.
No wood in sight.
But apparently, Freya found sothing better—a fist-sized rock.
Before I could react, she hurled it at with alarming speed.
THUNK!
The rock dented the side of my head with a dull, painful thud.
A collective gasp echoed from the crowd of examinees behind her, all fifty or so of them witnessing the brutal scene unfold.
I peeked from under my hair, noticing a good portion of the guys glaring daggers at as if I’d just insulted their goddess.
They probably couldn’t believe why their saintess started fighting soone, from their perspective I must have done sothing heinous.
’At least one thing is clear...’ I thought dryly. ’They won’t betray her. They’re all too busy trying to get in her good graces.’
Fucking love-sick bastards.
Rubbing the forming lump on my head, I whined, "Wow! Aren’t you supposed to be the mother of this little group? How could you smash my head with a rock?! I was joking, you know."
Freya, cheeks faintly pink with embarrassnt, struggled to maintain her graceful image. Her voice cracked slightly despite her calm posture.
"That joke was really bad... Don’t do that again."
I clicked my tongue in mock offense. "Nah. It ain’t happening. My joke was good and I’ll deliver it again—and better next ti."
A vein visibly popped on her forehead.
"First, you tried to burn —"
"taphorically!" I cut in imdiately, raising a finger to make my point clear.
Freya paused, blinking, as if processing my words.
Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in her mind, she nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah... You haven’t done anything. That was just a figure of speech. I... overreacted. I’m sorry."
I waved my hands dramatically, still grinning. "No, no, no! Don’t apologize!"
A relieved smile spread across her face.
"Thanks—" she started to say—
—but her words choked mid-sentence when she saw the expression on my face.
I had crouched down again, this ti saring both my hands with the black, dusty dirt coating the ground.
Grinning ear to ear like a devil about to unleash a prank, I began approaching her with slow, deliberate steps.
Visible horror flashed across her features.
She imdiately scread, pointing at . "Stay away from ! ART! He’s corrupted you!!"
The sudden betrayal in her voice made bark out a laugh.
’Poor Art...’ I thought, chuckling. ’The guy gets blad every ti soone goes a little crazy.’
I kept stalking forward, waggling my dirt-covered fingers nacingly.
"Don’t worry, Freyaaa..." I drawled. "I’m just gonna share a bit of good luck. A personal blessing."
"That’s not how blessings work!!" she shrieked, backpedaling rapidly toward the stunned group of examinees.
So of the guys instinctively stepped forward, as if preparing to shield her, but the sheer ridiculousness of the scene made them hesitate awkwardly.
Before anyone could intervene, Freya scooped up another rock—and this ti, warned with her eyes.
I threw my hands up in surrender, laughing. "Alright, alright! Truce! I surrender to the mighty witch of the battlefield!"
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, lowering the rock very slowly.
The group behind her exhaled in collective relief, so smiling awkwardly at the strange dynamic between us.
Freya, cheeks flushed and breathing slightly heavy, turned back to , an exasperated yet fond expression on her face.
"You," she muttered, "are going to be the death of ."
"Only taphorically," I said with a wink.
Her laughter, soft and genuine, finally broke through.
’That’s how you get in her good grace.’
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