NOVEL NEXT Ch. 24
Cuman’s smirk was no longer on point. His eyes turned from Miro to the radiating scorch mark between them, then to the woman striding calmly forward. His posture didn’t change, but Fabrisse could feel that Cuman wasn’t used to being interrupted mid-performance, especially not by someone outside their year.
What good is a bully without his smirk? All that was left was to cope, seethe, and mald.
Fabrisse cursed his neglect once more. If he hadn’t failed four times, he would’ve been in the same class as Liene, not Cuman and Severa, both of whom were several years younger than him.
She didn’t look at Cuman. She walked right past him like he was another overgrown shrub and stood beside Fabrisse instead, hands at her hip.
“Oh, you’re back, little Lugano,” Cuman said, schooling his voice back into that familiar shade of casual cruelty. “The Rock Witch’s personal watchdog returns.” He gave her a theatrical bow. “Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, Miss . . . Assistant Mentor? Magus Exemplar? How high have you risen now with all that dazzling academic ingenuity?”
“Try again,” she said.
Cuman clicked his tongue. “Relax. No need for the girl to get defensive. Or is this a family business now?”
“I'm not his family,” Liene said. “I just hate watching cowards pick duels they won’t finish.”
Cuman’s grin returned, though it looked slightly forced. “Right. Well, enjoy hiding behind your big sis, Kestovar. I’m sure the next time you try throwing rocks, she'll let you use both hands.”
That sentence doesn’t even make sense.
For a second, he felt a stupid, itching need to do something. To fight like a reckless, glowing idiot. But he didn’t.
Cuman turned on his heel, gave Miro a shove to get him moving, and stalked off without another word.
As he watched them take off, Fabrisse exhaled shakily, brushing dust from his sleeve. “Thank you,” he whispered to Liene.
Liene stepped beside him, brushing soot from her coat. She looked him up and down, then jabbed a thumb lightly against his arm. “Are you bleeding anywhere? Or worse, emotionally leaking?”
Fabrisse gave a lopsided smile. “Only my pride took a minor structural collapse.”
“Ah, that’s fine then.” She wiped a strand of hair that was covering his left eye, ignoring his startled yelp. “Didn’t suit you anyway. Looked like a wizard trying to cosplay a wilted leaf. At least they didn’t mess up the cute hair.”
He laughed—an actual, startled laugh—and for a moment, the lingering tension in his chest eased.
“Thanks for the timely sunbeam,” he said. “I didn’t know you were into dramatic entrances.”
“I time them to your moments of maximum idiocy,” she said as she ruffled his hair. “Which is often.”
He reached up and gently, awkwardly, touched her wrist, guiding her hand away with a motion that was more sheepish than resistant.
“Easy,” he murmured, not quite meeting her eyes.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Liene asked again as she peered down at him.
He was about to respond before the glyph showed up.
[NEW SIDEQUEST UNLOCKED: “Rock and Retaliation”]
Objective:
– Strike Cuman Gollivur with a Stone-Based Thaumaturgy spell
– Bonus Objective: Humiliate him publicly
Reward:
✦ Spectral Appraisal (Rank I)
– View target’s basic combat stats: FP, attributes
– Limited insight into behavioral patterns and resonance volatility
Time Limit: 7 days (Standard Calendar)
[SYSTEM NOTE: Violence is not always the answer. But sometimes, a well-placed pebble is.]
Why do the sidequests give the most juicy rewards? This feels like something that should be earned in a main branch of quest.
[SYSTEM NOTE: Spectral Appraisal can be attained later via the main questline.]
Accept Sidequest?
[Yes] [No] [Request More Information]
Which meant Fabrisse could choose whether he’d want revenge or not.
I mean . . . do I really want to fling rocks at Cuman’s face? By the Will of the Flamus, yes I do!
He was about to choose ‘Yes’ before he saw another option to the right.
Wait. What does ‘Request More Information’ do?
He chose the option.
[Retrieving Additional Information . . .]
▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯ 12%
▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯ 27%
▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯▯ 61%
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯ 83%
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯ 95%
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ 100%
[Data Fetch Complete.]
[Rendering . . .]
[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION UNAVAILABLE]
Why did you offer extra information in the first place, then . . .
“Fabri. Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?” Somebody said.
“Huh?” He didn’t. He was just staring at a spectral glyph nobody else could see.
It was, of course, Liene, huffing to herself. “Why am I even asking? A concussed man wouldn’t know they’re concussed. I’m stupid!”
“Yes.” He said as he chose ‘Yes’ on his glyph.
“Shut up! Ah—okay, so, okay. Do you need me to take you to the infirmary?” Liene now leaned in a bit to bring her eyes to his level. Her face punched straight through the glyph hovering in front of him, scattering the projection like she’d just walked into a curtain of light.
It was, objectively, too far into his personal space.
He resisted the urge to flinch.
“Fabri?” she said again, brow creasing.
“Just a breeze.” He turned away from her. “Or a concussion. One of those.”
She didn’t move. Her voice softened to not her usual playful lilt, but something quieter. “Don’t joke about that.”
“Sorry.” He appreciated her care, really—but something about how worked up she was gave him pause. Sure, they were close, fellow underachievers and occasional co-conspirators, but even he wasn’t this worried about his own injuries. It wasn’t like he’d fallen off a cliff.
There was a pause. Then her voice dropped an octave. “Right. I’m reporting this. What are their names again?”
He very quickly turned back to her. “What?”
She was already straightening up, eyes sharp, jaw set. “You got spell-slammed in a sanctioned zone. I’m going straight to the faculty authority queue—maybe Bellare if he’s on rotation, or Vavis. They’ll actually do something.”
“Liene, wait—”
“I’ll even bring a transcript if I have to. Or dig up those lantern rune logs—if those things recorded glyph activities. They’ll corroborate—”
“You’ve never gone the official route in your life,” Fabrisse said, incredulous.
She froze.
With a breathy, frustrated laugh, she spun on her heel. “Exactly! Which means it’s too late to start now!” She threw her hands up. “Do you think they’ll care? That it wasn’t a duel? That it got out of hand? No one steps in unless someone’s unconscious, and even then only if someone inconveniently sees it.”
He continued. “I don’t think the Magus are going to file a citation on Cuman Gollivur. His uncle chairs the Discipline Board.”
She turned back to him with a grin too toothy for someone frustrated. He felt his spine trying to retreat from his body.
Liena chirped, “So that leaves only one option.”
“Oh no.” Oh wait. The quest. Oh yes.
“We play them back,” she said.
“But only with Stone-based Thaumaturgy,” he said.
A light breeze drove past.
Now it was her turn to exclaim, “What?”