Chapter 236: A Peaceful Morning. (Kofi Donation Bonus)

In a fraction of a second, all the theatrical bravado vanished. Pascal dropped to his knees, slid across the damp flagstones like a well-lubricated bowling ball, and wrapped both arms desperately around Creed’s left boot.

"ELDER BROTHER CREED!" Pascal bawled, rubbing his face shamelessly against Creed’s leather shoe.

"The divine dragon of Section 7! The heaven-sundering peerless sovereign of the spear! The savior of the weak, the breaker of chains, the most handsome man to ever grace the mortal realm!"

Creed looked down, his face entirely deadpan. "Let go of my shoe, Baldy. You’re getting pond scum on the finish."

"I cannot, my lord!" Pascal sobbed theatrically, peering up with huge, glistening eyes. "Demons have laid a wicked snare for your humble servant!

They seek to strip me of my dignity, expose my divine flesh to the mocking winds of the quad, and crush my fragile heart before my legend can even sprout! Protect me, O Great Class Captain! Protect your most loyal disciple!"

The three upperclassmen turned, their eyebrows raising as they took in Creed’s appearance.

Seeing the torn uniform, the dried blood, and the dark blue headband, the two cronies chuckled.

"Who’s this? Your big brother from the freshman class?" the taller crony sneered, taking a step forward. "Hey, kid. Tell your little mascot to pay his debt, or you can join him for the lap around the courtyard."

Creed looked at the cronies, then down at Pascal, who was still clutching his leg like a terrified koala.

A slow, devious grin crept across Creed’s face.

"Wait," Creed said, his voice entirely serious as he looked at the crimson-haired girl. "Did you say he made a bet involving permanent runic dye?"

"I did," the girl said, crossing her arms over her corset, tilting her head with curiosity.

"And he promised to run three laps around the Elite Quad?"

"That was the wager," she replied.

Creed nodded solemnly. He reached down, grabbed Pascal by the scruff of his collar, and hoisted the bald boy into the air like a sack of potatoes.

"Elder brother...?" Pascal whispered, a terrible dread suddenly dawning on him.

"A man’s word is his bond, Pascal," Creed said with profound, fatherly disappointment. "You cannot dishonor our humble origins by backing out of a debt. Honestly, three laps is far too lenient for someone who insulted a senior’s honor with cheap pickup lines.

Senior sister, do you have the dye on you? If you don’t mind, I can hold his arms while you write on his forehead. His scalp has plenty of surface area."

"CREED, YOU TRAITOROUS PIG!" Pascal screamed, thrashing his legs wildly in mid-air.

"I GAVE YOU MY BEST SNACKS YESTERDAY! I TOLD THE CAFETERIA LADY YOU WERE A WAR HERO SO SHE GAVE YOU EXTRA GRAVY! WHERE IS YOUR CONSCIENCE?! WHERE IS THE TAO OF BROTHERHOOD?!"

The crimson-haired girl burst out laughing, a bright, booming sound that echoed across the plaza. Even her two cronies cracked wide grins.

"I like you, freshman," she chuckled, resting her hammer on the ground with a soft thud. "You’ve got sense."

"I try," Creed said modestly, shaking Pascal slightly until the boy’s teeth clicked.

"NOOOOO! MERCY! HEAVENS, STRIKE THIS BLONDE SUCCUBUS DOWN!" Pascal wailed.

Creed let the laughter linger for three seconds before his smile slowly relaxed. He dropped Pascal back onto his feet, dusting off his own hands. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

He turned his full attention toward the crimson-haired girl.

"Jokes aside, senior," Creed said, his voice smooth, pleasant, but carrying an unmistakable, subterranean weight. "He’s an idiot with zero game, but he’s my idiot. How about we settle the ledger another way?"

The girl’s smile faded slightly, her amber eyes sharpening. "What do you propose, little junior? You want to take his place?"

"Not quite," Creed said.

He didn’t draw the Pale Horizon from his back. He didn’t even drop into a combat stance.

He simply took half a step forward and let out a fraction of a fraction of his newly comprehended Stage 3 Spear Intent.

SHING!

There was no sound, yet everyone within ten yards felt a phantom blade press against the soft flesh of their throats.

The calm surface of the ornamental koi pond beside them suddenly fractured into hundreds of hairline ripples, perfectly straight, like invisible needles slicing across the water.

The heavy hammer in the girl’s hand gave a sharp, metallic shudder, its static electricity instantly grounding itself into the stone, completely extinguished.

The two cronies took an involuntary step back, their faces draining of color as their breath hitched.

The crimson-haired girl’s eyes widened. Her combat instincts screamed.

She was a Stage 1 Gold-stage Awakened, yet in that single microsecond, she realized that if this freshman wanted to, he could put a hole through her chest before she could lift her weapon off the flagstones.

Creed pulled the intent back as quickly as it had appeared, letting his warm, easy smile return.

"I have three Stage 2 pure mineral cores from the baseline rifts in my storage ring," Creed offered casually, tossing a small velvet pouch toward her.

"More than enough to cover the price of a starlight banquet ticket. Let the toad keep his pants, and we call it even."

The girl caught the pouch out of the air. She glanced down at it, then looked back up at Creed, her gaze completely transformed from condescending amusement into deep, wary respect.

"Creed Walden," she murmured, finally connecting the dots.

"At your service," Creed said with a small, mocking bow.

She stared at him for a moment longer, then let out a low whistle and tucked the pouch into her belt. "Deal. Keep a tighter leash on your pet, Class Captain. Next time, I won’t just paint him; I’ll use him for batting practice."

She turned on her heel and strode away, her two cronies quickly falling in behind her, casting nervous, backward glances at Creed as they vanished into the crowd.

Silence returned to the plaza.

Pascal slowly peeled himself off the ground, brushing off his knees, his jaw hanging open as he stared at Creed.

"Bro..." Pascal whispered, his eyes sparkling with borderline worship. "Did you just... did you just intimidate an upperclassman with a single twitch of your eyebrow? Is this the forbidden Dragon Monarch’s Tyrannical Glare? Teach me! I will wash your socks for a month!"

Creed reached out and gave Pascal’s bald head a loud, stinging slap.

SMACK!

"Ow!" Pascal yelped, rubbing his scalp.

"Next time you make a bet for a girl’s number, check if her hammer is taller than you are, you horny potato," Creed sighed, shaking his head as he started walking.

"Let’s go. We have morning lectures in Hall 1, and Varien won’t hesitate to hang us by our ankles if we’re late."

"Yes, my lord! Immediately, my lord!" Pascal scurried along beside him, his short legs pumping rapidly, babbling endlessly about destiny, romantic redemption, and how he had actually strategically allowed the senior to win so Creed could look heroic.

Creed just chuckled, listening to the absurd chatter as they crossed the expansive crystalline bridge leading to the main academic towers.

The sun was high now, bathing the floating campus in brilliant golden light.

It felt normal. It felt like a peaceful morning.