Damon raised a hand, stopping the three who were already moving in.
They halted reluctantly, sneers still plastered across their faces as they glared at Elias.
Elias knew—very clearly—that he was in a mountain of trouble.
But seriously... what was he supposed to do? Just stand there and let this idiot keep running his mouth?
Yeah, sure. If he'd kept quiet, maybe everything would've blown over.
But that punch?
God—it had been irresistible.
And honestly?
Worth it.
Who cared if the guy was stronger? Or some Scion from a Noble House he'd never even heard of?
Elias would rather get skewered than bow his head to a bastard like that.
—or to anyone.
Damon tilted his head slightly, studying him.
Not angry.
Not shouting.
Just... looking.
Like Elias was something about to break.
A strange feeling buzzed low in Elias' stomach, sharp and uncomfortable.
"Hey, um..." he coughed, forcing a smile that didn't quite hold. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I was just trying to kill a mosquito."
A small pause.
"It was on your nose. I swear."
The truth was, Elias did have ways out.
He could disappear into his personal space and wait out the entire trip.
Easy.
Clean.
Safe.
But that opened another problem.
How exactly was he supposed to explain teleportation... when he'd only just awakened?
Sure, the others might assume he'd already reached the Apprentice stage—strong enough to use his Resonance String.
But then what?
What happens when the academy tests him and the truth comes out?
Unless he somehow broke through to Apprentice before arrival—which wasn't impossible, just ridiculously hard—it wasn't worth the risk.
And using the Lament?
Didn't even cross his mind.
Two minutes of invincibility wouldn't solve anything. It would just delay the beating. And explaining how he even got a Lament, with no family legacy to back it up?
Yeah. No.
There wasn't a clean way out of this.
Not without drawing attention.
Not without consequences.
At this point...
Elias couldn't see any option that didn't end with him getting beaten.
But—ugh.
Why did it feel like his insides were burning just thinking about it?
"Raven. Anthony," Damon said, voice flat, eyes cold as ice as they settled on the chubby boy and the white-haired one. "Punch his guts out."
Both of them rolled their necks, eager.
"Claw," Damon continued, a darker edge slipping into his tone, "make sure none of his limbs are... unbroken. Since he clearly can't control them, he has no use for them either."
Elias shivered.
He took a step back.
They closed in.
"I'm going to enjoy snapping your bones," Claw said, stepping forward, his eyes lit with something ugly.
Around them, the rest of the teenagers watched in silence.
Waiting.
Watching.
Some curious. Some entertained. Some... just glad it wasn't them.
Maybe a few of them were wondering if Elias would fight back.
If the arrogant new guy had just been pretending all along.
Honestly, the only thing missing was popcorn.
Elias clenched his teeth.
He wasn't unfamiliar with bullying—not really. He'd seen it, understood it.
But this?
This was something else.
"You bunch of bastards, your damn mummies did a really bad job training your asses-"
The punch cut him off.
Hard.
It slammed into his face, snapping his head back before he could finish.
Not that he would have.
Because right then, his drawback kicked in—locking his voice, silencing him completely.
And that was only the beginning.
Raven swept his legs out from under him.
Elias hit the ground face-first.
Then it came.
Kicks.
Punches.
Relentless.
They rained down on him without rhythm, without pause, like a storm that didn't care what it destroyed.
Elias curled slightly, teeth clenched tight and grinding as pain tore through his body in waves.
However the greatest torture was not being able to scream, groan or whimper under such agonizing assault.
After that...
It was just hell.
***
"Ahhh..."
Elias let out a low groan as he forced his eyes open. His vision came in hazy at first, like the world hadn't fully agreed to come back into focus yet.
Everything hurt.
His knees. His back. His face—
Damn it.
It felt like his entire body had been set on fire and then politely left to simmer.
"Would you like some?"
A voice cut through his discomfort.
Male. Close.
"...Wha—" Elias muttered, drowsiness fading as he turned his head to see who had spoken.
The golden-haired boy.
The same one that had been beaten earlier.
He sat there holding out two sausage rolls, a bright, unruly grin on his face like nothing had happened.
Elias stared at him.
...He did not look like someone who had just been beaten half to death.
Elias, on the other hand, felt every single second of it.
Regret, though?
That was louder than the pain.
If he had gone to farm in one of those red-graded Mirrorths earlier... if he'd managed to absorb even a few Echoform fragments... maybe things wouldn't have ended like that.
Maybe he could've fought back.
Maybe he could've hit them harder than they hit him.
Hard enough that the whole cabin would've heard their screams.
Rank mattered. Everyone knew that. Advancing didn't just increase your abilities—it improved your physical strength too. And in a fight between Novices, that often decided everything.
Elias wasn't weak.
But compared to people who had been awakened for years?
He was still far behind.
Most of those guys were probably Advanced Novices (F+)... maybe even edging into Beginner Adept Stage (E-).
Against that?
He never stood a real chance.
And he knew it.
Still...
That didn't make the lesson any less clear.
'I got too cocky.'
The thought sat heavy in his chest.
The power he had gained came fast—too fast. Enough to give him a taste, enough to make him feel like he was already something.
But the beating had stripped that illusion away without mercy.
The Silent God had given him potential.
Nothing more.
And potential meant nothing if the person holding it wasn't willing—or strong enough—to shape it.
Elias turned his head slightly, letting his gaze drift across the cabin.
People were eating now. Laughing in small groups. Talking like nothing had happened. Life had moved on.
Soft violin music still played in the background, the same orange-haired girl near the window continuing her piece, calm and uninterrupted.
The attendants moved through the aisles, collecting trays, finishing their rounds.
Normal.
As if the earlier chaos had never existed.
Elias winced as he shifted, pushing himself a little more upright before looking back at the golden-haired boy.
The sausage rolls were still held out.
Quietly.
Elias hesitated for a second... then reached out and took them.
"Thanks."
His travel bag was still beside him.
Good.
Those guys probably didn't bother searching it—whether out of arrogance or disinterest, he didn't care. It worked in his favor either way.
They had ended up isolated near the edge of the cabin, where fewer people lingered. Not surprising.
No one wanted to attract attention from Damon and his group.
Elias couldn't help but grit his teeth.
...Just you wait.
A faint edge crept into his thoughts.
'You bunch of assholes... I'll make sure you remember me before I leave this train.'
Who said he had to be powerful enough to deal with those bunch of assholes?
Underhanded tactics existed for moments like this—and Elias was shameless enough to admit he was an expert at those uhh... credible, totally not illegal methods.
He took a bite of the sausage roll.
A small groan escaped him despite himself.
"...This is good."
He glanced sideways at the golden-haired boy.
The boy was leaning back against the cabin wall, one hand resting on his stomach, a blade of tea grass hanging lazily from his lips.
Yeah, this dude definitely didn't look like someone who had been beaten up.
"What's your name?" Elias asked, narrowing his swollen eyes at him. He took another bite of the sausage, the flavor bursting across his tongue. "Gosh... this is so good."
"BURP."
The boy let out a loud belch, rubbing his stomach as if nothing in the world could bother him.
Elias' gaze drifted—and then stopped.
From under the boy's shirt, he could clearly make out... abs.
Six of them.
A beat of silence passed.
Then jealousy crept in before he could stop it.
Sure, after awakening, Elias had noticed his own body had improved—more defined, sharper, something even male models would struggle to match.
But somehow...
That hadn't extended to his stomach.
Not even close.
He'd been robbed of the one thing that mattered.
If he had those abs, he was certain he'd never button a shirt again in his life.
"Eric Malor," the boy replied lazily, picking his teeth with a toothpick. "And what was that back there? You were actually pretty cool."
He tilted his head slightly, a faint grin forming.
"You should've seen Damon's face when you punched him. Looked like he swallowed something disgusting."
Elias raised a brow.
Wasn't this guy knocked out earlier?
He dismissed the thought with a small shake of his head and went back to eating, focusing on the sausage rolls like they were the only thing that mattered in the world.
"Those are made by my Aunt Melissa," Eric added, voice tinged with pride. "You won't find sausages like these anywhere—frog meat done this well is—"
"What?!" Elias suddenly froze, his eyes widening as he clutched his stomach.
A wave of nausea hit him hard.
He shot Eric a sharp glare, only to find the boy watching him with complete, unbothered curiosity.
"...You threw them away," Eric said after a moment, letting out a small sigh. "That's unfortunate. Those were the last ones I had."
"Who the hell would eat your frog sausages?!" Elias snapped, a vein pulsing at his temple.
Eric frowned slightly, genuinely puzzled. "But you were just saying they were delicious a moment ago."
"You—"
Elias stopped.
The rapid sound of footsteps rang out, like someone approaching steadily.
It was the pink-haired girl from before.
She walked toward them carrying a tray piled with burgers, fries, and chicken wings. When she reached their spot, she stuck out her tongue at Elias—just for a second—before dropping gracefully on the ground and placing the tray on the floor between them.
Elias' eyes fell to the food.
His mouth watered.
"Humph! Stop drooling, it's disgusting," she said, rolling her eyes as she picked up a burger and nibbled at the edges. "I brought this for you two. You both looked... kind of pathetic."
"My aunt's sausages are still better," Eric replied with a scoff, but he still stretched out his hand to grab a handful of fries.
Elias coughed lightly and picked up a chicken wing, biting into it with clear satisfaction.
...But for some reason—
It still didn't feel as good as the sausage.
No.
Absolutely not.
Stop it, Elias. Those were frog sausages. Frogs. Croaky, slimy, disgusting little things.
He forced the thought away and focused on the food in his hand.
"...Aren't you scared of those guys?" Elias asked between bites.
He swallowed, then added, "I mean—don't get me wrong, I appreciate this—but won't they come after you for helping us?"
Eric shrugged, like the question wasn't worth much thought.
The girl rolled her eyes, and for a brief moment Elias thought he saw something flicker within them—deep pink embers, faint but unmistakable.
The ripple around her shifted, thickening subtly, pressing against him in a way that felt... off.
Unsettling.
And then—
Something inside his chest tightened.
Strange.
Why did he suddenly feel this intense urge to protect her?
Not casually. Not mildly.
But strongly enough that it bordered on instinct.
Almost the same way he would feel about Lizzy.
Almost like—
...he'd die for her if he had to.
She looked at him then, lips curling into a small, knowing smile.
And just like that, the ripple around her vanished.
Cleanly.
Effortlessly.
Like flipping a switch.
The moment it disappeared, Elias snapped out of it.
Cold sweat broke across his forehead as he inhaled sharply, his thoughts jolting back into place.
...What the hell was that?
Forget the fact that she had just influenced his mind without him even realizing—
That level of control alone wasn't normal.
Someone who could suppress and manipulate their presence like that... wasn't a Novice.
At the very least, she had to be a Beginner Apprentice.
Or higher.
Elias' expression tightened slightly as the realization settled.
She was dangerous.
Far more dangerous than those four idiots from earlier.
The kind of danger that didn't announce itself.
The quiet ones.
The ones who smiled too easily.
...The ones people never saw coming.
Yeah.
Whoever said that the scary ones were often the gentle, unassuming, giggly bystanders?
That person definitely had a lot of experience!
She scoffed, bringing a chicken wing to her nose and sniffing it like she was savoring the aroma before biting into it.
"They can try," she said casually. "But unlike you, I won't be the one getting beaten. I'll be the one dragging them across the floor and hanging them from one of these cabin poles till we reach Arvon."
She chewed, unbothered.
"And I promise you," she added, "they'll spend every single second of the journey... screaming."
Elias shuddered.
Then, almost immediately, his pride flared.
"Hey... they caught me by surprise, okay!" he shot back, a little too quickly.
She giggled.
That light, ringing laugh again—soft, almost playful.
And for a second, Elias felt his thoughts go slightly... foggy.
He blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it.
Focus.
"So who are you exactly?" he asked, tone shifting into genuine curiosity. A girl this powerful can't be nobody, right?
Eric reacted immediately.
"Wait—you don't know her?!" he blurted, half shocked, half theatrical. He spread his arms wide like he was about to announce something grand.
"She's from the most ostentatious, overly fashionable, ridiculously wealthy family to ever exist in our pitiful, shallow, peasant lives."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret.
"You know the ones rumored to use Arvon Dollars as toilet paper?"
Elias' mind paused.
Then slowly processed.
There was really only one Noble House known for that kind of absurd wealth.
And reputation.
"...The family whose trash bins people rush to raid?" Elias asked, testing the thought aloud. "The ones whose waste has reportedly created multiple millionaires?"
Eric snapped his fingers and gave a firm nod.
"That one."
Elias turned his head back toward the pink-haired girl.
She was still eating, chewing slowly, her eyes narrowing at both of them as their conversation continued.
Elias studied her for a moment.
Then spoke.
"...So you're Nina Vangrova."
The name landed cleanly.
He gave a small, almost casual shrug.
"Heard a lot about your... temper."
A faint pause.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head and a tone that edged just a bit too far into confidence—
"You seem a little unstable. Hard to imagine anyone putting up with that."
His lips curved.
"So how about I do you a favor and become your boyfriend?"
Silence.
It stretched.
And in that brief, quiet moment—
Elias realized something.
...Yeah. That probably wasn't the smartest thing to say.
Her eyes darkened.
A deep pink flare ignited within them.
The ripple returned—no longer subtle, no longer controlled.
It crashed into him in full force.
Beside him, Eric visibly shuddered.
However, despite the danger radiating off her, the girl only smiled at Elias—bright, almost gleeful.
And somehow, that made things worse.
A lot worse.
Elias felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"...Hey," she said, tilting her head slightly, eyes fixed on him, "why don't you open your mouth like a good boy? I suddenly find your front teeth very attractive..."