Chapter 191: My Spirit
The walk from the Hall of Communion was a new kind of execution.
Every step I took down the root-covered path felt heavy, as if the ground itself was trying to hold me back.
The whispers of the other students, now released from the hall, followed me like a cloud of biting insects.
"…bleeding…"
"…divine rejection…"
"…Cursed King. That's what he is. Even the Guardian Dragon couldn't stand him."
"…did you see Eric's face? He looked like he'd just won the entire Academy."
I ignored them, my pace steady, my expression a mask of cold indifference.
My head was throbbing, a vicious migraine born from the combined assault of Luminos's holy probe and Drakerlor's abyssal rage.
The blood from my nose had dried, leaving a stiff, uncomfortable crust on my upper lip, but the humiliation felt fresh, stinging.
Lysandra's "alibi" for me—that my soul possessed "absolute dominance" and was incompatible with "communion"—was a masterful piece of political spin.
