Ch 12 Real Talent

Kale gritted his teeth and spat, his words dripping with malice.

“You’re a one-armed cripple who can’t even pass a basic class! Do us all a favor, pack up, and go play in the dirt with your old man. Peasants should live like peasants.”

Cripple, peasant, dirt… Is there some kind of script these guys all read from? thought Asterion.

Asterion had memories like this too. People who had looked down on him for being a commoner without a last name. Though he couldn’t even remember who they were now.

Asterion took another step deeper into the fog.

“You don’t have a future here. In this world, status is decided by mana, and your life’s over.”

Right as Kale sneered, mockingly tapping Ivan on the cheek—

“Move.”

A chilling voice. An unnatural, intimidating pressure appeared.

“…Wh-what the hell? Who’s there!”

Kale whipped his head around, but all he could see was the dense purple fog.

“Ah. Can’t even detect this?” Asterion muttered under his breath.

If the kid had any actual talent, he would have sensed Asterion the second he spoke, despite the [Camouflage] spell.

But Kale couldn’t see anything. He only felt the horrifying weight of the mana creeping over his ski. His face instantly drained of color.

Wh-what the…

It felt like an enormous predator was breathing right down his neck. Kale instinctively tried to back away, but his feet were glued to the floor.

SMASH!

“A-Aaargh!”

Nobody even touched him, but Kale’s body was suddenly launched into the air before slamming violently into the barrier wall.

“Ugh, my head…!”

Kale clutched his bleeding head.

“Barto! Are you out of your mind?!”

But Barto was just staring down at Kale with a deeply wronged expression.

“Wh-what are you talking about? You tripped on your own!”

Kale’s eyes darted to the panicked, rat-faced Sid, before finally landing on Ivan.

“Ivan! You…! You dare use magic to attack a noble?!”

Kale screamed at Ivan, who was still sprawled on the floor. But Ivan didn’t even have the energy to reply. He just coughed up bloody spit, his breathing ragged and shaking.

Kale felt unbearable humiliation. How dare a filthy commoner—a one-armed dropout, no less!

“You little piece of……!”

Kale reared his leg back, as if intending to punt Ivan’s head off his shoulders. But right before his boot connected with Ivan’s face, it caught on something in midair with a hard click.

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It felt like the empty space itself had instantly solidified into a brick wall.

“Huh—”

Kale collapsed backward, an agonizing pain radiating through his foot like the bones had just shattered. It felt like he had just full-force kicked a slab of solid steel.

As he fell, the space in front of his eyes warped for a fraction of a second, revealing the afterimage of a transparent cube. It was a [Barrier] Asterion had casually thrown up, but Kale didn’t have the mental bandwidth to process that.

“Ack! My foot! My foot…!”

Kale shrieked, clutching his broken foot. But the nightmare didn’t stop there.

WHAM!

Something punched Kale square in the face. An invisible strike. Kale’s head violently snapped back, and bright red blood sprayed from his front teeth.

“Gah! Are you mental! What the hell was that for?”

This time Kale saw it clearly with both his eyes. The culprit was Barto. Kale’s face crumpled in fury.

“That was you earlier too, wasn’t it!”

“What are you talking about? You swung at me first!”

Barto glared at Kale.

“You son of a… Do I look like a fucking joke to you?”

Barto’s previously bewildered expression violently warped into rage—all completely orchestrated by a flick of Asterion’s finger.

Panting with fury, Kale swung his fist right at Barto.