During this month, the girl no longer sought him out, and Clayton assumed their relationship held no official status. It baffled him, yet it seemed typical of her—a whirlwind of unpredictability.
"You're finally here. I've been waiting for you forever," she said, her pouty expression tugging at his heartstrings in ways he didn't expect.
Clayton's chest tightened. Something about her—everything about her—seemed to ensnare him in an invisible net.
Lady Hall approached with confident strides, her movements were graceful yet purposeful. Without a word, she clamped down on Clayton's wrist and tugged, attempting to pull him toward her horse-drawn carriage.
To her surprise, his body didn't budge. He stood rooted to the ground, unyielding as if she were trying to drag a mountain. A flicker of confusion crossed her face. Gwen was a level two mage, but her physical strength was equivalent to that of a level six Hunter warrior. She could shatter massive boulders with her fists or withstand the onslaught of burly assailants without using her magic.
Yet this unassuming senior, rumored to be no stronger than a third-level knight, resisted her effortlessly. Why is that so?
Clayton realized his mistake and allowed her to pull him forward before the girl had the chance to think the most accurately possible.
"Strange…" Gwen muttered under her breath, wondering if she had imagined his unyielding strength. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought. "Come on, we'll be late."
Before Clayton could protest, Gwen shoved him into the carriage with surprising force. Servants nearby, including the butler, watched the spectacle unfold with wide-eyed shock. To them, it appeared as though Lady Hall had kidnapped their helpless young master, since none of them knew that Clayton was the legendary Realm Knight―one of the divine envoys from the God Realm.
Whispers of concern rippled through the onlookers. The mansion staff hesitated to intervene, unnerved by the two massive monsters stationed before Lady Hall's carriage. What they didn't realize was that these creatures were mere illusions, conjured by Gwen's formidable magic.
As soon as the carriage disappeared from sight, the butler sprang into action. "Quickly, notify Lady Hawk! The young master has been kidnapped!"
Gwen felt a mountain of giant snowballs hit her head when she heard the butler's scream. How could the old man assume she kidnapped their young master?
Inside the carriage, Gwen's calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos she had left behind. She stared idly out the window, seemingly uninterested in the situation she had created.
Meanwhile, Clayton studied her in silence. Despite the confusion swirling in his mind, he couldn't deny the comfort her presence brought him. It was strange—almost magical. She was the eye of the storm in his otherwise chaotic life. But the memory of her using him as a mere betting tool still stung.
"Lady Hall, isn't it?" said he to break the awkward silence. "Why did you kidnap me?"
The corner of Gwen's lips twitched. "Kidnap you? Why does everyone think I've kidnapped you? I'm merely taking you to my father's house. What's wrong with that?"
Clayton arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Forcing someone against their will tends to be frowned upon." He paused, his tone growing more incredulous. "Also, why did you tell my butler you're my girlfriend?"
Gwen shrugged. "Everyone at school knows I'm your girlfriend."
"Do they now?" Clayton's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Funny, because until recently, I didn't even know my 'girlfriend's' name."
"Does it matter?" she asked, her expression genuinely puzzled.
Here she was with those innocent-like looks as if it was natural if one didn't know their partner's name. Thought Clayton.
Clayton rubbed his temples in exasperation. This girl was beautiful, no doubt, but her logic defied reason. And yet, despite her strange demeanor, his heart inexplicably softened toward her. Was he losing his mind?
"I heard you're my junior and a mage," he said, steering the conversation elsewhere. "What level are you? Three? Four?"
"Two," Gwen replied nonchalantly.
Clayton blinked in disbelief. "Level two? Your illusions fooled all my servants, even those who are level seven Hunters. That's…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "Unbelievable. Even those monsters looked real!"
Gwen tilted her head, baffled. "You noticed my illusions?" She wondered how the weak, useless senior could notice it, but she lost thought when her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized his pale blue gaze. "Did you hurt your eyes?"
Clayton shifted uncomfortably. "No," he replied curtly, sensing her line of questioning would lead somewhere uncomfortable.
"Your eyes look different," she mused. "They're paler than I remember."
"Great effort to change the topic."
"I'm not. They look less vibrant. I wonder why."
Isn't she only a second-level mage? How could she notice the difference in his eyes? It was due to his weakening magic since the poison and he had to divide all of his core in between his main and twin bodies.
"You must be mistaken," he said quickly, eager to change the subject. "Besides, there's something more pressing—thanks to you, I'm still in my house clothes. How do you expect me to meet your father like this?"
"So?" Gwen asked, as though the issue were trivial.
Clayton felt like he was going crazy. He had difficulty communicating with Gwen, but he still didn't feel angry. It seemed he had unlimited patience with this girl even though he still had a hidden 'revenge' in his heart. "You may not care about your appearance, but I place great importance on mine. Besides, my mother would be furious if..."
"Fine!" Gwen interrupted. "We'll stop for clothes first."
As they arrived at a nearby boutique, a new dilemma emerged: neither of them had brought sufficient money.
"Senior Clay," Gwen said, turning to him, "did you bring any money by chance?"
Clayton gave her a deadpan look. "Do you think I had time to grab money when someone kidnapped me in broad daylight?"
"For the last time," she snapped, "I didn't kidnap you. Why do I feel like you have a personal grudge against me?" Usually, Gwen never cared about someone hostile to her. But for some reason, she felt uncomfortable accepting the hostile attitude of this useless senior.
Clayton smirked. "Well, perhaps it's because someone once used me as a betting tool? That was the first time I accepted a girl's confession, and she left before I even got her name."
Gwen flushed, caught off guard by his pointed remark. "Okay, I was wrong," she admitted begrudgingly. "What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"
"You don't need to do anything," he said, crossing his arms. "Because I don't plan to forgive you."
Gwen's eye twitched. Of all the people she'd met, none were as insufferable as this senior. Her fingers twitched, tempted to summon a fire spirit to scorch him or an ice spirit to freeze him solid. No, perhaps feeding him to a carnivorous plant spirit would be the most satisfying solution.
Yet, even in her frustration, she couldn't shake the strange feeling that she didn't want him to hate her.