I barely had time to catch my breath, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of the fight with Ren. My Evolver quietly displayed my updated score, the 3,000 points from defeating him feeling heavier than they should. Every point was a double-edged sword, drawing more attention, more predators.
And then I heard it—the crunch of leaves, the unmistakable shuffle of multiple feet approaching. I sighed. Of course. It's never quiet for long, is it?
"Arthur Nightingale," a voice called out, full of mockery and disdain. Stepping out from the shadows was Morris von Ponfleck, flanked by his group of opportunists. His smug grin was practically dripping with superiority, as if he'd already won. "The commoner sullying Class A. What a sad sight."
'You've got to be kidding me,' I thought, gripping my sword tighter. I was tired, my body still aching from the clash with Ren, and now I had to deal with this lot?
Morris's gang spread out, surrounding me. There were four of them, each grinning like hyenas circling a wounded animal. None of them were particularly strong, but together, and with me this drained, they could pose a real problem.
"Well, isn't this a scene?" Morris continued, his tone dripping with amusement. "Arthur Nightingale, the great commoner, looking a little worse for wear. Guess fighting above your station takes a toll, huh?"
I didn't reply, my gaze darting between them, looking for openings. Talking wouldn't help here. Morris's sneer widened as he mistook my silence for fear.
"You know, people like you shouldn't be in Class A," Morris said, stepping closer, his mana flaring faintly. "Class A is for nobles. People with lineage, prestige. You? You're just… a fluke."
The others laughed, feeding off his arrogance. "Yeah, how does it feel to be out of your depth, Nightingale?" one of them taunted.
"You're just a placeholder," another added. "Someone else more deserving will take your spot soon enough."
My grip tightened on my sword, but my body protested even the idea of another fight. I was running on fumes, and they knew it. My silence only seemed to embolden them further.
"Well, I suppose this is where your lucky streak ends," Morris said, mana gathering in his hands. "I'll make sure to put those points of yours to better use. It's only fair, after all."
I prepared myself for the worst, digging deep for whatever energy I could muster to fend them off. But before Morris could attack, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Morris von Ponfleck," Rachel said, her tone dangerously calm. "What do you think you're doing?"
The group froze as Rachel descended from above, golden mana radiating from her wings like a beacon. She landed with the grace of someone who absolutely knew she was in control of the situation. Behind her, crimson mana flickered as Cecilia stepped out of the shadows, her mischievous smile giving way to something far sharper.
"Well, well," Cecilia said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Picking on Arthur when he's tired? Morris, that's low, even for you."
Morris faltered, his mana flickering as the two girls advanced. "W-we're just… settling a score," he stammered, his earlier confidence evaporating. "He doesn't belong in Class A—"
"Enough," Rachel interrupted, her sapphire eyes narrowing. "Arthur belongs where he's earned his place. Unlike you."
Morris took a step back, his face turning red as he tried to summon some semblance of dignity. "You're defending him? A commoner? You're a Creighton! What would your family—"
Rachel's golden feathers flared, cutting him off mid-sentence. Her voice was steady, but the edge in it was impossible to miss. "Arthur is more worthy of Class A than you will ever be, Morris. Now leave. Before I make you."
Cecilia stepped forward, crimson mana swirling around her like a storm. "You heard her. Run along, Morris. Unless you want to see what happens when a Slatemark gets serious."
Morris's gang exchanged nervous glances. They weren't stupid. Facing me was one thing—tired, outnumbered. But Rachel and Cecilia? Even they knew better than to take on two of the most powerful first-years head-on.
"This isn't over," Morris muttered, his bravado slipping as he gestured for his lackeys to follow. They disappeared into the trees, their presence fading quickly as they retreated.
I exhaled, finally letting my shoulders relax. Rachel turned to me, her expression softening. "Arthur, are you okay?"
"Just peachy," I said, my voice dry. "Thanks for the save."
Cecilia smirked, crossing her arms. "Well, aren't you lucky we happened to be nearby? Though I'm starting to think we should charge you for these rescues."
Rachel rolled her eyes, ignoring Cecilia's teasing. "You should rest, Arthur. You've been fighting too much already."
As Morris and his gang turned tail, their hurried retreat was marked by muttered curses and bruised egos. It was almost satisfying to watch—almost. But apparently, Cecilia had other ideas.
"Oh no, no, no," Cecilia said, her crimson eyes glinting with mischief as she raised her hand, mana swirling around her fingers. "We don't just let them leave. That's boring."
"Cecilia, no—" Rachel started, but it was too late.
A swarm of chaotic crimson orbs formed around Cecilia, their movements erratic and unpredictable, like fireworks with a grudge. With a flick of her wrist, the orbs shot toward the retreating group.
"Chaos Bombs!" Cecilia called out gleefully, as if announcing the winner of a game show.
The orbs exploded around Morris and his gang, bursts of crimson energy lighting up the forest. None of them hit directly—Cecilia was annoyingly good at precision, even with something as chaotic as her magic—but the resulting shockwaves sent the group tumbling over themselves in a comical display of panic.
"Run faster!" one of them screamed, tripping over a root and scrambling to his feet.
"She's insane!" Morris shouted, his face red with both embarrassment and rage as he sprinted away, clutching at his Evolver.
Cecilia stood there, hands on her hips, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "Now that is a proper goodbye," she said, turning back to us with a satisfied grin.
Rachel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Did you really have to do that?"
"Oh, come on, Ray-Ray," Cecilia teased, her tone dripping with mock indignation. "You're too soft. You let them walk away after saying all those awful things about Arthur. Me? I just helped them rethink their life choices. Consider it a public service."
Rachel's cheeks flushed slightly as she glanced at me. "They were retreating. It wasn't necessary."
"Not necessary?" Cecilia raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. "You're supposed to be a Saintess! Aren't you supposed to smite evil or something? You're slipping, Ray-Ray."
Rachel opened her mouth to retort but closed it again, her cheeks reddening further. "I don't smite people for running away," she muttered.
Cecilia smirked, leaning in closer. "Are you sure about that? Because I distinctly remember someone chasing me with a hammer just a little while ago."
Rachel's flush deepened, and she waved her hands in a flustered attempt to change the subject. "That was—this is—different!"
I couldn't help but let out a chuckle, which earned me a glare from Rachel and a triumphant grin from Cecilia.
"You two," Rachel said, exasperated, but there was no real bite in her tone. "Honestly…"
"Well," Cecilia said, stretching her arms above her head as if she hadn't just bombed a group of students into retreating, "now that that's sorted, Arthur, you owe me. Big time. Rescues like this don't come cheap."
I raised an eyebrow. "What, you want me to pay you in points?"
"No, no," she said with a sly smile. "Something much more valuable. Like… maybe you owe me a favor. I'll collect later."
Rachel huffed. "Cecilia, leave him alone. He's had enough for today."
Cecilia winked at me, her crimson mana flickering faintly around her fingertips. "Fine, fine. For now."
I shook my head, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself. Exhausted or not, I couldn't deny that having Rachel and Cecilia around had its perks—even if one of them seemed determined to cause chaos at every opportunity.