Chapter 54: I was caught secretly scolding the goddess!

“Hmm… not enough! Far from enough!”

Blazewing licked her lips, inspiration striking. She decided to dot Aphrosia’s pert nose with a bold, vibrant red spot.

The moment the brush touched her skin, Aphrosia’s brow twitched unconsciously, nearly making Blazewing drop the brush in fright. But her breathing soon steadied.

“Phew… scared the feathers off me.”

Blazewing patted her flat chest, her courage swelling again.

Now for the main event!

She targeted Aphrosia’s elegantly contoured cheeks.

Left cheek? Right cheek?

Tilting her head, she sank into “artistic” contemplation. Soon, a brilliant (in her mind) idea emerged!

On the left cheek, she painstakingly drew… well, something vaguely bird-like, an abstract masterpiece, with an arrow and two wobbly words: “Dumb Bird.” Clearly a jab at herself (I’m not dumb!) and Mistfeather (She’s the dumb one!).

For the right cheek, she went “thematic.” Grunting with effort, she sketched a comically crude stick figure, sprawled with an exaggeratedly round, red, spanked bottom! Beside it, she labeled: “Bad Egg Aphrosia!”

Admiring her “masterpiece”—turtle on the forehead, red dot on the nose, “Dumb Bird” on the left, “Spanked Bad Egg” on the right—Blazewing beamed with pride. Her face flushed with excitement and suppressed laughter, her red ear-wings flapping as if ready to take flight. She rolled on the bed, silently cackling, nearly squashing the “passed-out” Mistfeather.

“Pfft…” A faint snicker came from nearby.

Blazewing froze, whipping her head toward Mistfeather.

The blue-eyed loli had quietly opened her eyes, watching her sister’s “art” and Aphrosia’s colorful face with glee. Her lips curved in a mix of schadenfreude and “Sis is such an idiot.”

“Mistfeather! You… you’re not out?!” Blazewing hissed, shocked and furious.

“With all your racket, even the dead would wake up,” Mistfeather said lazily, rolling to prop her head on one hand, her gaze flicking between Aphrosia’s face and Blazewing with a “you’re doomed” pity and “nice job” approval.

“I was just wondering if, when she wakes, you’ll be roasted or plucked into a shuttlecock.”

Blazewing paled, her smugness replaced by dread. Right! Aphrosia was fierce! These drawings were way worse than a spanking!

“I… I… she deserved it!” Blazewing puffed out her chest, voice shaky.

“Then I won’t help when you get thrashed tomorrow~” Mistfeather’s lips curled smugly, yawning as she drifted off.

With only one bed, Mistfeather snuggled against Aphrosia’s arm, the bed big enough for all three…

On Aphrosia’s side, she faced her nightly nemesis—not a person, but a goddess.

“Hi? Goddess, hello? Haha?” Aphrosia laughed awkwardly, panic swirling inside.

Why? Just look at the small whip in the Time Goddess’s hand…

“My dear Aphrosia, you’ve been avoiding me lately, haven’t you? Barely sleeping~” The blonde goddess’s smile was laced with danger.

She flicked the whip, emphasizing its presence.

The pressure was overwhelming.

“No way! I’ve made progress, haven’t I?”

Over time, Aphrosia’s etiquette and social skills had visibly improved, but Astraea was unimpressed. Her strength? Stagnant at best.

Her combat skills and experience were decent, even among high-level mages, but skills alone weren’t enough. Her magic arsenal was pitifully small, and their strength? Barely a scratch in battle.

It wasn’t her fault. Magic strength varied by rank, and as a beginner apprentice, she could only wield a handful of basic spells.

In this world, anyone could learn common magic, the type depending on their awakening. Aphrosia’s nature magic wasn’t from Daphne but her innate awakening. Strength depended on proficiency, talent, and, crucially, rank.

Ranks progressed from apprentice to beginner, intermediate, advanced, and master, each with low, mid, and high tiers.

Bloodline magic, like Astraea’s time and miracle magic, was exclusive to saintess families, its strength tied to bloodline awakening. Eight-winged angels? Aphrosia had just one dim wing…

Compared to Sophia’s three wings or the demon princess’s four, she was far behind…

Astraea needed to shift her training to strength.

The orphanage incident showed Aphrosia’s lackluster performance. She broke the array well, but in combat, she was pummeled, unable to fight back.

For Astraea’s chosen, this was unacceptable…

Aphrosia tilted her head at the pensive goddess. Did I… piss her off again? Did she catch me cursing her?

“Progress?” Astraea’s golden eyes narrowed, her smile chilling. The whip danced in her fingers, emitting faint, heart-stopping whooshes.

“Etiquette and socializing? Mere embellishments.” She stepped forward, each step on radiant void exuding crushing pressure.

Worse, Aphrosia was far from meeting Astraea’s political goals…

“My dear Aphrosia.”

Her voice was soft as a feather but cold as steel.

“I didn’t choose you to charm noble salons or play clever tricks in alleys.”

Her gaze sharpened, twin bolts of gold piercing Aphrosia’s soul.

“At the orphanage, you were a drenched fledgling! Breaking that shoddy array drained you how much? And then? Facing that weak foe, all you did was take hits and defend. Your magic? It’s tickling the enemy.”

Aphrosia paled, instinctively stepping back, but her feet were rooted in the radiant space. Glancing at the whip and her meager apprentice skills, frustration and grievance welled up.

“I… I’ve been trying!” Her voice trembled faintly.

“I practice daily! But rank-ups aren’t fast, and bloodline awakening… I can’t control it…”

She glanced at her lone, dim wing, then recalled Ifrora’s phoenix shadow. The gap was despairing.

“Excuses!”

Astraea’s voice rose, divine anger shaking the space. “Rank? Bloodline? Chains for the mediocre! True power comes from will! From the ferocity to tear into foes in despair!”

She snapped the whip, a crack rippling the void, making Aphrosia’s heart lurch.

“My ‘lessons’ have been too gentle.” Astraea’s smile turned dangerous.

“You still have energy for petty socializing… and…”

Her gaze pierced Aphrosia’s guilty face.

“…to badmouth your goddess in your dreams?”

“!!!” Busted! She’d been caught cursing! Daphne, save me!—though she knew it was futile.

Poor Aphrosia didn’t know Daphne had sold her out…

“From tonight, the lessons escalate.” Astraea’s tone was final.

She raised her hand, the white space warping and reshaping. The light faded, revealing a desolate, scorched battlefield, heavy with sulfur and blood, distant wails echoing. Twisted rocks loomed like monstrous bones.

“Combat is the fastest way to grow.” Astraea floated above.

“Here, you face real ‘enemies.’” As she spoke, the ground exploded! A claw of viscous shadow and jagged rock burst forth, shrieking as it lunged for Aphrosia’s ankle!

“Waaah!” Terrified, Aphrosia’s orphanage-honed instincts kicked in, rolling clumsily aside. The claw grazed her skirt, gouging deep trenches.

“Wind Blade!” Still rattled, she summoned her meager magic, a palm-sized, shaky cyan blade forming at her fingertips, firing at the writhing claw.

Pfft. It left a faint scratch before dissipating.

“…” Aphrosia stared, speechless. Not even good enough to scrape!

“Too slow! Too weak!” Astraea’s voice was icy judgment. “Too long to cast, sloppy magic output, and abysmal accuracy! This is your ‘effort’?”

As she spoke, the leaden clouds churned, a lightning bolt wreathed in blinding sparks crashing down, far beyond an apprentice’s ability to handle!

“Dodge! Feel the elements’ flow with all your spirit!” Astraea commanded.

Aphrosia’s pupils shrank, death’s threat prickling her skin. Without thinking, her body reacted faster than her mind, diving behind a massive rock!

Boom!*

A deafening roar, blinding light, and a violent shockwave erupted! Though she barely made cover, the blast and debris slammed her, flinging her onto the scorched earth. Her organs felt displaced, blood welling in her throat.

“Cough… cough…” Pain racked her body, bones aching. This wasn’t training—it was murder!

“Stand!” Astraea’s voice pierced like cold needles. “Enemies don’t give you a breather! Your foes are a hundred times crueler than these illusions! Feel the pain! Remember it! Let it fuel your power!”

Gritting her teeth, Aphrosia fought the agony, struggling to rise. She looked up at the radiant, merciless goddess. Sweat and dust streaked her face, her blue eyes holding pain, fear—and a growing, defiant spark deep within.

But as she tried to muster magic for the next attack…