Chapter 50: One Kick From Me

Kaelos’s hand shot up in a flash, trembling with a mixture of fury and disbelief, as if he wanted to strike the exquisitely delicate face before him. He wanted—no, he needed—to destroy his own sister with his own hands.

“Stacie… don’t blame me,” he spat, his voice venomous, “blame yourself for being too perfect.”

Stacie closed her eyes tightly. She gritted her teeth, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill. She didn’t understand why she seemed to draw nothing but disdain from her own family. She had always striven to do her best, to be flawless in everything, yet the more perfect she was, the more she was despised.

Over time, she had learned to hide her gifts, to downplay her talents and adopt a low profile. But her very nature refused to let her dim her light completely. When she was chosen by two of the highest-ranking magical beasts, she had thought, perhaps naively, that her natural talent might finally earn her family’s recognition.

But when she looked around, all she saw were eyes filled with jealousy, malice, and hatred. Eyes that seemed to want to devour her alive. She could hear the voices whispering in venomous unison:

Why her? Not me! Why this wretched half-elf! The shame of the family!

Why doesn’t she just die? Her mother is the disgrace of the royal bloodline! A lowly woman who dallied with a common man—she should die like her mother to preserve the purity of the royal family!

Stacie shivered at the memory. If it hadn’t been for the teacher visiting from the Elven lands that day, she might have spent her entire life trapped in the Elven Forest, her existence shackled within that cursed prison, never escaping.

Even now, at the Arcane Academy, her own brother—her entire royal family—seemed intent on pushing her back into that abyss.

Her teacher could not protect her at every moment, and the constant vigilance required to survive had exhausted her. This was not the first time Kaelos had tormented her at the academy; it had happened again and again, a relentless cycle of cruelty.

Stacie opened her eyes, tears streaming down her pale, flawless cheeks. She looked at Kaelos’s raised hand—the hand that had come to strike her again—and a cry tore from her throat, raw and shattering.

“I just want to live like a person! What have I done wrong?!”

Yes. Stacie only wanted to live as a human being. She did not wish to be merely an elf; she wanted to be herself.

Something about Stacie had changed, though. She curled into herself, arms hugging her body tightly. No one noticed, but beneath the silver glow of the moonlight, her shadow began to twist in unnatural, almost sinister ways.

“You existing is a mistake!” Kaelos sneered, his face twisted with unbridled malice. He looked down on Stacie with a cruel satisfaction—perhaps only in moments like this did he feel superior to her.

Suddenly, a rustle from the bushes caught his attention. Something large and fast approached his face. Before he could react, a sharp pain exploded across his cheek.

Bang!

Kaelos was hurled through the air as if he weighed nothing. Hidden in the grass, Merlin’s expression was icy, fury blazing like wildfire. He had surged forward and landed a kick with every ounce of his strength—without holding back.

“Tch… feels like stepping in dog shit.”

Merlin grimaced, disgusted, glancing down at his boots. He would never wear these shoes again.

Then, raising his gaze to Kaelos—who was still reeling from the blow—Merlin’s piercing blue eyes glimmered with an almost supernatural chill, a subtle hint of latent magic flickering beneath their surface.

Stacie, tears still clinging to her face, stared in astonishment at the figure shielding her. After so long, she felt the warm, rare sensation of safety behind Merlin’s steadfast presence.

“Pathetic,” Merlin muttered through gritted teeth. “Blaming a little girl for your own failures… and your entire family’s incompetence. Pure-blooded elves, my ass. It makes me sick.”

Kaelos, sprawled on the ground, dazed and bleeding from his nose, could hardly believe what had just happened. A dark, grimy shoe print marked his cheek. Several pure-blooded elves, horrified, quickly gathered around him.

“Your Highness! Are you alright?”
“Please, don’t scare me like that!”
“Damn it! Who are you to attack His Highness?!”

“Get out of my way!” Kaelos bellowed, standing in a wild frenzy. He wiped the blood from his face, his eyes fixed on Merlin like a demon’s.

At first, he thought Merlin was just another elf, but then he noticed the absence of the signature pointed ears. He realized, with growing fury, that this strikingly handsome being was a human.

A human… and one more handsome than a pure-blooded elf.

Jealousy flared, hot and dangerous, in Kaelos’s chest. “Who are you?” he demanded, voice cold and sharp. “How dare you offend me?”

“I’m just a passing masked traveler… no, wait, wrong words. I’m Stacie’s employer,” Merlin said calmly, arms crossed as he stared Kaelos down. He had been watching silently for some time and knew all about the twisted relationship between Kaelos and Stacie.

“Stacie’s employer?” Kaelos blinked, stunned. Then anger surged as he realized the audacity of the human calling him, a pure-blooded elf, a ‘thing.’

Kaelos sneered venomously. “I don’t care who you are. Dare to humiliate the Isabelle family, and today… today you’ll die.”

For disrupting his schemes and kicking him across the face, Kaelos had no intention of letting Merlin live. Behind him stood the Elven royal family, after all. If this human truly held a noble status, Kaelos, as a prince, would surely know.

And Merlin—so strikingly handsome—if he were truly someone of importance, Kaelos would never have forgotten.

Stacie, tears streaming down her cheeks, stared at Merlin in awe. Her hands clenched tightly over her chest.

Because of the royal family’s oppressive influence, Stacie had no friends. Anyone who came too close risked drawing the ire of the royal elves; no one wanted to challenge the power of a dominant race.

She had grown accustomed to solitude, cautious even when others offered kindness. She could never afford to drag anyone else into her struggles.

Yet seeing Merlin stand between her and her tormentor stirred something deep within her. Gratitude, relief—but also fear. She did not want Kaelos to notice Merlin.

“Kaelos… let Merlin go,” she cried, stepping forward despite the quivering in her legs, positioning herself between her brother and Merlin. Her voice trembled with anger and desperation.

“Merlin? That wretched girl… I knew you’d be just like your mother, a shameless little whore, seducing others even at such a young age… and human, no less…”

Kaelos didn’t finish his tirade. Merlin lunged forward, grabbing his collar, slapping him across the face twice in rapid succession.

Smack! Smack!

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