That was the moment I realized who I was. Through Sable Blade, I saw just how selfish and foolish I was. With this understanding, I knew she was wrong. My "Pop Storm" was the most versatile thaumaturgy ever, and I would use it to save who I loved. I could not let dismemberment or a stupid hole in my belly stop me. If I could not clap with my hands, I would clap with my teeth.

Snap.

I teleported myself to the space above Roason. Sweeping Sable Blade in the head, I bit again.

Snap.

A foot was planted into her knee.

Snap.

A slap landed on the face.

Snap.

A punch struck in her stomach.

Snap.

A boot was sent into her face, crushing her nose. The black pole disappeared, and the woman fell to the ground. She was still alive, but I could not care less. Not even my own deadly injury could attract my attention. Dashing to Roason, I knelt and stooped down before his wound.

The hole did not go through his heart, yet it still penetrated his trachea. Blood kept gushing and flooding until it stopped. The redness no longer devoured the whiteness in his uniform. What the fuck was I supposed to do? My hand hovered above his chest, shivering as the only moving thing. How could I save him? What could I do?

I only realized I was holding my breath when tears slid down my naked gum into my mouth. Voices came out of my throat. A hoarse utterance leaked from my mouth. The utterance was too flat to be a sob or a groan and too loud to be ignored. Thus, he grabbed my shaking hand. His touch was soft and strengthless while powerful enough to calm me down. Muted, I saw the grin he forced on his face. His lips curled, and his cheeks pulled backward.

Yet, I looked through his orange goggles and stared at those eyes hidden behind his sallet. Despair and pain were all I saw in those locked tears.

"Roason…" I quietly called his name, watching him faintly shake his head. The fake smile disappeared. His lips moved, giving his silent, last words.

I could not. I leaned away and crawled further. There had to be a way. I had to come up with something…

Straws! I saw this on the television! Straws could be used temporarily to replace the trachea. It was all I needed.

Snap.

I straddled above Sable Blade and slapped her again. Grabbing her by the collar, I yelled in her face, "You can craft things, can't you? Save my friend, now!"

Seeing no reaction from her, I smashed my forehead on her broken nose. Her head knocked on the floor. As it bounced back, I pushed it down again. With my hand pressing her head, I leaned in and whispered, "I would pop you from inside if I could, you piece of shit. Now, save my friend, or I'll blow your head off."

----------------------------------------

Kiina Yawaii was sitting right across the table. Her lightly brown skin was perfect, not too pale or dark. Her straight, black hair went down her white shirt. The two patches before her ears were highlighted gold. Most people did not know this: the highlighting was not done perfectly. Some hair on her left had some dye spilled on them. She always hid them behind her ear to make both sides symmetrical. She talked to her friends with her pink, tiny lips dancing like butterflies. Her voice was pure music. People would probably think I am a racist pervert if they could read my thoughts, yet I, Roason Howi, promised I had no guilty thoughts about the girl at all. Oh, shit! Kiina was looking at me. She said something! What did she say? I needed to stop staring. I—

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, knocking me out of my head. I abruptly turned toward him, Tok Long, the fat boy.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

I glanced at the other five to six people rounding the lunch table, who were mostly also staring at me, and replied, "What?"

"The new kid, dude. You think he has a chance to beat Tale?" he hurriedly explained like I was about to tell him the cure to cancer. I honestly had no interest in the current topic at all. It was just one of those "Can this guy or gal beat Tale Nost" conversations. Normally, this kind of discussion was about comic characters. However, we were in the same grade as Tale Nost, so, of course, it was about him.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"I don't know. The last one who can shoot chains lost horribly. I don't see how this one stands a chance."

"Yeah, but his 'Cage-keep' can restrict movements. I bet even Tale's teleportation can't escape that."

"Who knows?" I tried to dodge the conversation and went back to appreciating Kiina.

"Also, where is Tale? He never missed lunch," Tok searched around with his eyes peeking over others' shoulders. What a fanboy!

"I think I saw him walking to the equipment room. Too afraid to ask why though," the girl beside Kiina said with a finger pointing up.

Kiina leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table as she said, "Roason, aren't you supposed to know this? You are the one closest to him."

She was looking at me! Her black eyes were clean and glossy. There was nothing specifically significant, yet everything just felt right. The distance between her eyes was so fitting, and the size of her nose was perfect. I blushed as our sights met.

"I, I, I will go find him now!" I pushed my chair away and fled off. Why did I do that?

With some regret, I strolled toward the equipment room next to the stadium. As a consolation, I told myself searching for Tale was not too bad of an activity. Although time spent with him was never really enjoyable, it was not insufferable either. I just grew familiar with his flaws, many, many flaws.

As I approached my destination, I heard some noises coming out of it. Oh, shit! I rushed to the door and thumped it open. Unsurprisingly, a group of bullies were shooting lasers at an igloo formed by multiple Wall Spells. The igloo was way across the room against a row of fully stocked racking. Inside the igloo, Tale Nost had his right fist held in the air, wrapped by a green string. The string bloated like a spring ball yet was rigid and unmovable.

Judging by the shape, I supposed the string was a creation of "Cage-keep," but how? Could the new kid restrict the movements of specific body parts?

Away from the igloo, the five bullies of various physiques stood together, launching a barrage of laser beams at Tale's igloo. They seemed to be really trying. However, not a scratch was made.

Tale Nost was, for sure, stronger than them. His manipulation of magic was precise enough that his casting was twice more efficient than average mages. However, even he could not outlast five people in magic reserve simultaneously.

As I ran into the room, I was ambushed by the person hiding in the corner beside the entrance. He struck me in the head with his elbow. I immediately lost my balance and slumped to the wall, barely standing.

Still dizzy, I saw the man who attacked me. He had a golden crew cut on his head and tiny blue eyes. Tale and I kicked his ass the first day we entered the school. Since then, this bastard had been causing trouble. Behind him was the new kid, a short guy with a black bow cut. He lowered his head with his hands crossed for the casting of his thaumaturgy. He was certainly forced to be here.

The bastard announced with his arms wide open, "Oh, keep the lasers going, my boys. Our next prey just jumped into our net."

"Keep yapping, loser." I pushed myself away from the wall. Neglecting the ache in my head, I ignited my fists.

His brows knitted together as he lunged forth. I instinctively threw my punch, yet his torso leaned backward as his left leg kept lunging. Before I could react, his upper body had bent lower than his hips, and his right foot was already on my left cheek. I staggered and lifted my fist again. This time, I was jabbed in the abdomen.

What was that? Get up, balance, and attack. How could he do all those before I had time to stand still? He never seemed so fast when fighting Tale.

My legs quivered as I crossed my arms before my belly. My stomach twitched, shaking my chyme up my esophagus. I felt like vomiting, but there was no time.

His next blow came for my face. I desperately raised my crossed arms in between us. His fist crashed into my forearms. Then, a sweep hit me in the knee, sending me to the floor.

Lying on the ground, I could not clean my head from the excessive pain. I thought I could stand up again, yet my body refused to try. With that loser trampling down on my back, my fire was extinguished. I lost.

"My 'Jester Jacker' could increase my speed whenever I'm changing my posture." He leaned to my ear with his right foot still on my back. He whispered, "I'm the best fucking brawler in the academy. Not even Tale Nost can beat me without his thaumaturgy. Who do you think you are? You are just the one hiding behind him. You are just a fucking sidekick. Remember your fucking place. Remember that I, Drake Scyk, am the one alongside Tale Nost. You are just his pet—"

Suddenly, the igloo blasted from inside. A magic missile flitted across the room, knocking the new kid out of his consciousness.

Clap. Clap.

Sending the explosion to the group of bullies, Tale booted Drake in the throat. While Drake was being brutalized, I gradually sat up against the wall. I closed my eyes, relaxing to Tale's clapping music. My aching gradually lessened, and I opened my eyes. Unconscious bullies lay all over the room, except where Tale bombed.

"Ready to go?" Tale walked to me as he threw Drake to the floor. He was intact. Not a scratch was left on him. I was sure those laser beams had at least touched him for a short instance. How? Well, he was Tale Nost. That explained.

"Let's go." I grabbed his hand and pulled myself up.

"What did that bastard tell you?"

After a moment of silence, I answered, "Nothing. Just some nonsense as always."

Whenever I thought about what Drake said, an urge swelled within me. I never figured out what it truly was. Still, I kept telling myself that I was neither a sidekick nor a pet. Tale being stronger than me did not put me in a lower position.

However, there was a gap between what I wanted to feel and what I actually felt. It was after the penetration in my trachea that I decided to face my true self.