Chương 20: Naïve, Stubborn and Low EQ

The match between Jullius and Kale concluded about half an hour later without a definitive result. However, anyone with a shred of experience could see the truth: it ended only because Jullius had run out of steam. Kale, on the other hand, didn't look the least bit exhausted. Standing off to the side, Andrew Matthew was grinning ear to ear, clearly relishing the sight of his rival being humbled. Jullius was visibly livid with the outcome. He hurled his wooden sword aside and barked irritably:"Asher, water!"

At that moment, I was preoccupied with my sparring match against Ethan. Distracted by the shout, I took a wooden blade full-force to the head. I staggered and fell back onto the ground. Reaching up to touch my scalp, I felt a small lump already forming. It wasn't bleeding much, but it stung like hell. Ethan looked startled; he'd gotten a bit carried away and hadn't been able to pull his strike in time.

"Are you okay?" he asked hurriedly. I frowned.

"I'm fine." Jullius didn't even bother to look over. He just shouted louder:"Asher!" The pain was making me lose my temper. Is he a weaning toddler crying for milk? Can't he lift his own damn ass to go get some water? I ignored the brat, sitting perfectly still as if I hadn't heard a word. Suddenly, a figure stepped forward and stood right in front of me, their back turned to my face. Kale was now blocking Jullius's line of sight toward me. He spoke flatly:"He's busy." Huh? Is he... defending me?

But he wouldn't even acknowledge my existence this morning. This kid is incredibly hard to read. Jullius was so stunned by the remark that he stood there blankly, momentarily at a loss for how to react. Everyone at the Academy knew I was his attendant; they were used to seeing me ordered around like a gopher, and no one was ever foolish enough to intervene. Kale turned back to look at me.

"Go to the infirmary." I didn't think it was that necessary. It was just a knock to the head.

"I don't think I need to." For some reason, the kid still insisted.

"Go. I'll take you." And so, half-coerced, I began walking toward the infirmary. Kale followed right behind me like he was escorting a prisoner to a cell. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I shot him a confused look.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine. I want to get back to my sword practice." His honest-looking face remained void of emotion as he spoke:"I was once hit on the head with a wooden sword just like you. My master told me to rest, but I didn't listen. I ended up with a concussion, vomiting, and stuck in bed for two days." Oh. So he actually is worried about me.

"I thought you disliked me," I noted.

"I tried to give you the answer this morning and you didn't even look at it."

"That would be cheating." If it were anyone else, I'd think they were joking. But Kale's expression was so earnest that it was impossible to associate him with the word "deceit."

"Then what about last night?" The boy in front of me showed a hint of flustered embarrassment. It seemed he realized he had been impolite.

"I didn't know who you were, so I didn't know what to say." You didn't know what to say, so you couldn't even manage a 'hello' back? I nearly snapped that right at his face. But now I understood the person named Kale Derick. He was a kid who was simultaneously naive, stubborn, and possessed an abysmal level of emotional intelligence. This is exactly the type of person I find the hardest to deal with. Is it because he spent his whole life in the woods with his old master?

With a person like this, subtle metaphors and clever wordplay are useless; you have to lay it out straight.

"I know what a concussion feels like. That hit just now wasn't that strong."

"You don't know that," Kale countered.

"I do know." Listen, kid, I was out adventuring while your grave was already growing green grass. Kale knitted his brows.

"You city folk always think you're right." Talking to this jungle brat was giving me a bigger headache than the wooden sword. I exhaled, giving up the argument, and went to the infirmary to get a small bandage applied before quickly heading back to the training grounds. Jullius had vanished from the field at some point, and Ethan had already paired up with someone else. Glancing around, I noticed everyone looking at me with a sense of trepidation.

They all understood that, whether intentional or not, I had just offended Jullius. I looked over at Kale, sensing a golden opportunity to get some advice from a genuine swordsmanship prodigy.

"Want to spar with me?" Kale nodded.

"Okay." And so, we began. Or rather, I attacked and Kale defended. My strikes, of course, posed zero difficulty for him. Before long, I was drenched in sweat while Kale wasn't even winded. I was starting to understand how Jullius felt during their match earlier. This kind of gap is truly infuriating.

"Why aren't you hitting back?" Kale scratched his head, then blurted out something so honest it was practically lethal:"I'm afraid of giving you a concussion." It wasn't intended as an insult, yet it was incredibly insulting. I was fuming.

"I only got hit earlier because I was distracted!"

"You want me to attack?"

"Bring it on." Kale dropped into his stance. I don't know if it was just my imagination, but the atmosphere around him shifted instantly. It felt as if... something was constantly flowing. Kale moved. I could still see his every motion with perfect clarity, but at the same time, I realized I was physically incapable of keeping up. The tip of his wooden sword stopped exactly five centimeters from my face. Kale withdrew his blade.

"Let's stop. You should go back to attacking." I felt like I was being ridiculed, even though the person in front of me didn't have any ill intent. Goddess Halunar, couldn't you have granted your "chosen one" at least one drop of practical talent?!