Chapter 302 - 297 — LuckyFool
The room was cold, yet Gordon was drenched in sweat. The oppressive force from Malach’s aura alone had him completely locked in place.
"When you left this fortress, you carried with you the pride of the northern house. The pride of Sarakhel."
Malach absentmindedly tapped a finger against the desk. He stood directly before Gordon, staring at him, but Gordon wouldn’t dare meet his eyes.
"And yet, you return after giving me this... humiliating performance. Half the cadets sent with you, gone. Several elites injured. You failed to live up to the name you carried, Gordon. You embarrassed Sarakhel."
Gordon hurriedly spoke.
"P-prime! You have to understand! I—"
"Hm? Did I give you permission to speak?"
"Urk!" Gordon let out a pained groan as Malach’s aura intensified, the pressure forcing his knees to tremble violently.
"I don’t recall asking you to speak, Gordon. Do you?"
"N-no, Prime..."
Malach stared at the trembling Gordon in silence for a moment, then chuckled.
"Place your hand on the table."
Gordon stiffened, but he dared not refuse. Slowly placing his hand on the table, he shut his eyes and clenched his teeth.
"Rewards should be given when they are due. And punishment should be given when it is due. That’s only fair, don’t you think, Gordon?"
A low hum echoed through the room as a massive hammer slowly formed in Malach’s grip. He raised it just above Gordon’s palm.
Gordon silently nodded, his entire body trembling.
"Good. Then you understand why I’m doing this. Why you need to be punished."
Gordon swallowed hard, bracing himself, then slowly nodded.
The hammer fell.
Crack!
"Ugggggg..." Gordon desperately held back his scream, clenching his teeth so hard blood pooled in his mouth. If he screamed in front of Malach, a single broken arm might suddenly seem like a godsend.
A moment later, when the worst of the pain finally subsided, Gordon opened his eyes to find his arm completely mangled, blood pooling across the table.
"Hm. I believe that should be sufficient punishment." Malach said without the slightest change in expression as he sat down. "Wouldn’t you agree, Gordon?"
"...only the Prime can decide when punishment is sufficient.
"Good answer." Malach smiled, then his face twisted in disgust as his gaze fell on Gordon’s bloody, mangled arm. Reaching for a vial of elixir, he casually tossed it toward him. "Use this. That disgusting thing should look like an arm again within a minute."
"...thank you, Prime."
"Now, gather the cadets and attack the southern fortress immediately."
Gordon’s eyes widened.
"N-now, Prime?"
Malach silently stared at him.
Gordon quickly swallowed, realizing his mistake, and bowed.
"As you command, Prime!"
He hurriedly turned to leave, but Malach’s voice stopped him right in his tracks.
"Stop."
Gordon swallowed, wondering if Malach was about to punish him again for his slip-up.
"Clean this mess before you leave."
Gordon turned toward the blood drenching the table. His blood. The same blood Malach had spilled by smashing that hammer into his hand.
He clenched his one good fist and bowed.
"...of course, Prime."
But Malach’s interest had already left Gordon. Instead, he turned toward the window, staring through it with an icy gaze.
He had an almost impenetrable barrier, an army of cadets, and multiple helping hands, and yet Zephyrion had dared to claim he could defeat him in three hours.
The audacity...
As he recalled the looks on the northern cadets’ faces, Malach couldn’t help but grit his teeth. They had all stared at him with darkened gazes, and he could practically smell their doubt.
All of this because of that useless fool who had done nothing but get lucky until now.
’You’ve made a terrible mistake, Lightning Prince. I’ll make sure I hammer that arrogance into your skull. Then, perhaps you’ll finally understand which of us stands above the other.’
With an icy gaze, Malach began anticipating the coming battle.
....
Zephyrion arrived at the southern fortress alongside the others. He walked through the gates cradling Lumi in his arms. With her petite frame, it almost looked like he was carrying a child, yet there wasn’t the slightest hint of embarrassment on Lumi’s face. Instead, she clung tightly to him, practically burying her face against his chest.
She had never looked safer.
Nedra, Tobias, and Fiona rushed over to him with worried expressions. But every word of concern died in their throats the moment they saw the coldness in Zephyrion’s gaze. Instead, they silently parted ways, allowing him to walk into the fortress.
Standing alongside Nedra and Tobias, Fiona watched Zephyrion leave with Lumi in his arms, a deep, sad smile on her face.
Soon, they turned their attention to Kaelion and the other returning cadets.
...
Setting Lumi down on the clinic bed, Zephyrion couldn’t help but notice the displeasure in her eyes at no longer being carried like a princess. However, he buried every emotion threatening to spill and maintained a cold mask.
Observing her for a moment, he noticed several scabbed wounds across her knees, caked with a mixture of dirt and blood. Without uttering a word, he reached for some wool and spirit and began cleaning them.
Lumi didn’t even flinch when the spirit touched her wounds. Her tolerance for pain had always been one of the things he failed to understand. Though, recently, such things had begun to pile up.
Again, Zephyrion buried the thought.
He was angry. Yes, he was angry. What she had done was stupid, and such reckless behavior couldn’t be tolerated.
As he finished cleaning her wounds, he lifted his gaze to find Lumi staring at him with worried eyes. A moment later, she slowly signed:
You’re angry with me...
Zephyrion’s instinctive response was no. But this time, he held it back.
He had been deliberating on how best to deal with this... problem for a while now, and somehow, he realized the last thing he should do was handle it the way he always had.
For a while now, he’d been avoiding dealing with things that were clearly becoming issues. Lumi’s sudden abandonment. Fiona’s attraction to him. And several others.
Having never had to deal with such things before, it was all entirely new to him, especially when real emotions were involved. However, they were still problems. Problems that would clearly come back to bite him if he continued ignoring them.
Lumi had simply been the first to show the consequences, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more.
’I need to handle these things differently.’
He needed to stop leaving matters to fester. He needed to start nipping them in the bud.
And so, rather than simply ignore this or postpone it until later, like he’d always done, Zephyrion decided to face it now.
"Why did you do it? Why did you attack the fortress?"