Races: Online

Han felt like a riot was about to start, his senses prickling at what was happening in front of him, but thankfully the Guardsman was too cool-headed to attack Russel. Not that might have happened, but any other protagonist might have face-slapped his drunk classmate now and be done with it.

As for himself, while he prided on the fact that cultivation and other novels were the rave amongst his people—he really just wanted to go home. The idea of leaving this to his Soul Waves and letting whatever happen to happen was tempting.

This wasn't abandonment to him.

But then he stood up and cleared his throat. He offered them a grin and waved. "Anyway, I'm leaving without you guys if you want to stay. I don't want to be a party pooper, but I have to get going and… study, or sleep. Either of the two, and I can't have a bad record with the Headmaster either."

The Guardsman known as Bo threw him a weird look, along with the rest of them. Even Russel raised a brow, as if taken out of the stupor but then waved and scoffed— "Go ahead and leave, I don't think you see us as your friends or anything. This just proves it."

Han was ready to leave, go and then jump back to bed and call it a day… but stopped cold at those words.

"Hey, Russel—" Teresa looked nervously at him. "What about you quiet down for a bit?" She would have normally said it dismissively, but there was a different air to the guy she usually bantered and argued with.

"I'm just telling it as how I see it." The drunk young man raised a tankard and then drank the leftover drops down, not even registering that there was actually hardly anything to drink. He glanced at Diov and Donovan. "Don't tell me that neither of you guys agree with me?"

Donovan grunted and averted his gaze. "Well…" The past two weeks of Han's distant attitude did make it seem like that way—and while he still disliked him for easily getting along with Sir Leon, he couldn't help but feel that Russel did make some sense.

It was more like Sir Harrington trying to get Han to befriend them, while the guy simply ran off and chose to be friends with misfits and the ones who were ostracized—or just the Half Elf.

"There's nothing wrong with being mere acquaintances," Diov said. Unlike his friend who was more focused on whatever grievances he was having now, he simply took it as it is. 

"But you then agree with me! Hah." Russel half-laughed and shook his head. "I'm not wrong at all. I was almost afraid that it was just me who thought this way—"

Han stood rigidly in place.

It was an observation and he needed to go elsewhere. Russel was actually right to some extent, but it didn't mean that hearing it all together was not a pleasant experience for Han. Especially when it was obvious that no one actually came in to argue against the point.

The other Guardsman, Ryden, cleared his throat. While he might have initially enjoyed the atmosphere of being around younger folks who clearly were on the same wavelength as him, this wasn't what he joined here for. "Uh, I know this isn't where I should butt—"

"Then don't butt in, Mister." Russel eyed him dourly. "You're not even supposed to be here. What kind of random old guy just approaches Students? If that isn't sketchy, I don't know what is—"

"Hey, listen kid—" 

Boaz held Ryden's shoulder down from standing up from his seat. Easy-going or not, insults were still horrible for anybody else. 

Behind them, Teresa was throwing signals at Donovan or Diov to cut Russel off. 

Han needed to let this drop—the guy was drunk. Who cared if this guy thought about him this way? He cleared his throat and threw a look at Donovan, noticing the rather distant expression on his face, and then gritted his teeth and turned back to Russel. "Oi, you're too drunk. It's time for us to go home."

"I'll stay here as long as I want! You can leave if you want—nobody's stopping you."

"Well—"

Han this was true, neither of the other three stepped up to stop him. A little bit more than willing for him to leave, or maybe just didn't care if he left. 

But that was to be expected right?

He glanced around them and took note that some people around this place started to look into their direction, as if understanding and taking note that a moment of drama was starting. It was a free show for anyone to enjoy.

This happened even if a Guardsman was around and eyed them nastily to mind their own business.

Students from Kraelonia Academy were having a little spat at a tavern? That was interesting and could tarnish some reputations.

Han rubbed his face, this was even worse than when he had to deal with Timothy. He managed to deal with those guy's words because he knew those insults weren't true, but… somehow, Russel's words struck a chord.

He might have hovered and hung out with them, but it never really constituted a strong bond or anything, did it? 

Han scratched his fingers through his hair, and then sighed. "Fine, whatever. I'm not dealing with this—if I'm not really a friend, then I guess I don't have to worry about what happens to you. Go knock yourself out for all I care."

Russel waved the tankard, "And I will—thank you. You can see yourself out!"

Han thought that this guy was actually nice, but now where were they? 

Both Diov and Donovan didn't seem like the type of men to interfere, and even if they could—it wouldn't do them any good. It would simply add more heat to the fire. And as for Teresa, while she normally enjoyed rumors and gossip that happened around the Academy, this really wasn't what she wanted.

"You know what, it is better if you walk off boy." Boaz whispered underneath his breath. "This won't end good and you know it." Diplomat class or not, entangling himself with this situation did more harm than any good. Nothing really great happened when fights started while they were drunk.

It would also be terrible if a fight happened under their watch.

Han glanced at the Guardsman and then shoved his hands into his pocket. Without waiting for another moment, he left the tavern all by himself. Now he didn't just take the Guardsman advice and neither did he leave because he was getting shooed away or anything.

He really just had more important activities to do.

This wasn't worth it for him.

.

.

.

If there had been any stray cans to kick then he would have kicked it, hard. Sent it flying across the empty and cold streets of the city. The lights flickered around him as he walked through the less taken care of parts of this place and sighed.

He wanted to get back asap and had decided to take the fastest route back as dictated by the city map hovering in front of him. But somehow the words still lingered around his head like some terrible joke.

"It was just the heat of the moment—he didn't know what he was saying," Han muttered to himself.

But it wasn't like he had the patience of Budhha to not take any offense with it either. He sighed and walked some more, trying to pay attention more to the condition of the roads than tackle with his own thoughts caught up in the remark.

It was obvious that not everyone was going to like him—but seriously, whoever portrayed the wish-fulfillment shows of the hero being liked by everyone and having an adoring crowd that looked to him. And the only exception for it were the bad guys that hated him. It was such a disillusionment now that he was in another world.

Maybe it was because he wasn't the hero—

He snorted at the thought. When did he ever think that he would be that guy? Or he could take on a role like that? 

Someone like Sir Leon de Harrington could have fitted it, or maybe someone else like Timothy with his hidden background of being a Noble's child. That guy had greater mana pool capacity and all of that, compared to his own inferior ones.

Han sighed and took the next turn at the street, and then frowned. He finally dismissed the screen and noticed he was in the seedier parts of the city. Older and less maintained buildings, actually smaller than the ones he had passed into.

But he did ask for a shortcut, and he found it. At the end of the street, he saw something akin to a round hole for one to pass through that gave him the familiar sight of the poking towers of Kraelonia Academy.

However, this place really did look shady… no, why was he thinking like that? So what if this place looked terrible? Han Jing didn't want to dismiss it simply because it was in bad condition—his own family lived in the less savory neighborhood in their city. 

The apartment he and his family lived in was cheap, kind of old and the landlady, Madam Dongxia was even skimping on repairs around the electricity or drainage troubles. It was a place for those who did their best to acclimate and survive in their surroundings.

Why would he judge the street before he actually walked in it?