Chapter 55: Total Misunderstanding II

  Ivaline trained too much.

  There was no drama to it. No collapse, no cry of pain. Just the quiet moment when her grip loosened, her knees touched the ground, and she stayed there.

  “…I can’t,” she said honestly.

  Ray had already seen it coming.

  Overtraining wasn’t new to him. It was the kind of mistake people with too much will and not enough experience always made.

  He crouched in front of her. “No strength left?”

  She nodded once. “…No hunt today.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, he slipped one arm behind her back, another under her knees—and lifted.

  Princess carry.

  No hesitation.

  No embarrassment.

  No second thought.

  Not because he thought about it.

  Not because he chose it.

  It was simply the fastest, safest way to move an exhausted trainee.

  Ivaline stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed completely, too tired to argue.

  “…Warm,” she murmured.

  Ray blinked. “…Ah.”

  He adjusted his hold slightly and started walking.

  At the eastern gate—

  Brannic saw them.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  His eyes widened.

  His tail shot straight up, fur puffed, base bulging in full alarm.

  “…Oi,” the beastman guard growled, half a step forward.

  Ray didn’t notice.

  His mind was already overloaded—

  the misunderstanding earlier,

  the realization that he had accepted a disciple,

  the weight of teaching someone for the first time in his life.

  All of his attention was on the girl in his arms.

  Her breathing.

  Her posture.

  How to prevent muscle strain.

  How much she had overreached.

  Behind them—

  “WHAT THE HELL—”

  Edric froze mid-cut.

  The butcher knife embedded itself deep into the chopping block.

  A customer screamed.

  Two men grabbed Edric before he could move.

  “PUT ME DOWN—”

  “EDRIC, NO—”

  “HE’S CARRYING HER—”

  Ray walked past.

  Unaware.

  He didn’t see Brannic’s glare.

  Didn’t feel Edric’s murderous aura.

  Didn’t register the way heads turned, whispers ignited, suspicion bloomed.

  To Ray, the street was quiet.

  Just a road.

  Just a child he needed to get fed.

  The whispers followed him.

  “Isn’t that the brave…?”

  “Why’s he holding a kid?”

  “That’s her, right?”

  “…Isn’t that weird?”

  “Too close.”

  “Too gentle.”

  Ray heard nothing at all.

  He didn’t stop.

  By the time he reached the inn, the murmurs had already fermented into something ugly.

  At the inn—

  “Dinner,” Ray said at the counter.

  “A kid’s meal. Something easy to chew. And… whatever you recommend for an adult.”

  The waitress’s eyes flicked from him to the girl, then away.

  Professional training won.

  “…Yes, sir.”

  Chronicle, observing from beyond sight, chuckled.

  He truly hears nothing, the historian thought.

  How impressive—and how dangerous.

  Ray seated himself and helped Ivaline eat slowly, fed her sometimes. She was already half-asleep, head resting against his side.

  After a while, he spoke.

  “It’s late. We can stop for today.”

  “…But,” he added, “if you want, I can still teach. Verbal basics. No movement.”

  She stirred. “…Difference?”

  “Physical training breaks your body,” Ray said.

  “Verbal training sharpens judgment.”

  Chronicle leaned close to her awareness.

  Your choice, he said gently. Rest… or learn.

  She thought for a moment.

  “…Stay,” she said.

  Ray nodded. “Alright.”

  He stood.

  And carried her upstairs.

  In front of everyone.

  Princess carry of cause.

  The eatery fell into stunned silence.

  Then—

  “…Did he just—”

  “With a child?”

  “Upstairs?”

  “That brave is—”

  “…Lolicon?”

  The rumor took root instantly.

  Ray, meanwhile, was already thinking about lesson structure, breathing rhythm, and how to explain distance control to someone with phantom-based fundamentals.

  None of the noise reached him.

  Not a single word.

  Chronicle sighed, amused and helpless.

  History, he thought, will be very unkind to this man.