Chapter 58: The bullying knight
“Oh, right—you still can’t cast anything, so you’re scared to face me, reliving old shame?”
“Move.”
Deep breath. Ashe sidestep. Kailan block again.
Eye skirt. Sneer:
“Heard Rose Knights? Fits magic trash like you—no spell needed.”
“Pity your father. Famous Capadovian archmage—died, no heir.”
Teresa props done. Counter. Saw. Step front shield Ashe. Ice:
“Miss—watch words.”
Divine leak. Shop murder air.
Fortress veterans—battle aura. Students quail easy.
Kailan back. Fear flash. Shop—magic turf. Superior return.
“Buying props? Not for poor knights…”
Drag tone. Bomb:
“Family villa listed, yes? No father—nothing.”
Dare not Teresa—Ashe fair.
Kill in Mills? Law, power—no.
Teresa arrival—Ashe want flee. Words tremble.
“Listed? Meaning?!”
“Check home? Oh—five six years gone?”
Kailan prod. Teresa colder.
“Deaf?”
“…Tch. Poor knights bully. Busy. Ashe—gulf uncrossable.”
Head flick. Noble stride out.
Ashe silent—struck.
Teresa watch. Ill luck.
Stroll ease—Kailan reverse. Pain deepen.
Shoulder pat.
“Ashe—ignore. Knights save world. Gulf is uncrossable.”
Yes—Knights near demigod 90+.
Mills geniuses: lifetime ~50 sage. No compare.
Kailan superiority—why?
Magic blind?
Andri echo—same flaw.
Magic = worth.
“…Know.”
Smile—forced Teresa saw.
…
Next. Andri class. Ashe absent.
“No gift—no class? Respect me?!”
Table slam. Rage. Disrespect.
Book fling. Exit.
Self-study.
Leanna disgust plain. Unfit mentor.
Melin dark gaze. Unknown.
Back garden base.
Ashe corner hug knees. Face arm. Shoulders quiver.
Shadow gentle. Scent calm. Warm hands shoulder—silent stay.
Ashe jolt. Tears blur. Celis worry soft.
Hide urge—wipe pretend. Celis shake. Handkerchief soft.
“Wind damp—headache long.”
Voice feather. Warm firm.
“Room floral tea. Join?”
No “why cry”, “stop”. Shelter tears.
Ashe blank. Cold hand led. Corner left.
Room lavender. Celis gentle soil wipe skirt. Warm tea.
Ashe no sip. Skirt grip. Tense.
“How find?”
“Watch every Knight.”
Sit. Cover cold hand.
“Outsider words cut deeper sword—rip fear bloody.”
Grip firm.
“Sun wounds. Pain—heal true.”
“…Can I?”
Hoarse uncertain.
“Always here—you can.”
Smile melt ice.
Defenses crumble. Ashe slack. Probe forehead shoulder. Chick haven.
Long.
Whisper inaudible:
“…Hated father since little.”