Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

A hush fell over the square.

Her cheek burned with the imprint of his hand, the echo of the slap reverberating not just in her bones but in the stunned silence of every onlooker.

Her mind went blank, and the ringing in her skull drowned out all thought as she stared in a dazed manner at the crowd in the direction her head had snapped from the force of the slap.

Ethan's crimson eyes were still cold and unyielding as he released her wrists as though they were nothing but dead weight.

He didn't continue any more brutality, and without sparing her another glance, he turned and walked toward the rows of rough-hewn stone benches beneath the bloody banner.

He sat down with deliberate calm, his arms folded across his chest, and let the heavy silence of his presence press against the stunned air.

The girls naturally joined him and soon dozens of gazes locked onto him, with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and restrained whispers echoing faintly through the square.

Becoming the center of attention of such a large crowd, Lucy started fidgeting beside him, clearly unsettled in her mind as her thumbs tangled together.

She twisted them nervously while her beautiful face flushed with confusion and unease.

Velcy, in contrast, stood steady at his side with her scarred features unreadable, and her ice blue eyes scanning the crowd with quiet vigilance.

Feeling the multitude of gazes directed at him, Ethan's attention drifted in a sharp and calculating manner, and he spotted something strange.

At the far left corner of the square, near the altar, two men stood cloaked in voluminous black robes.

They conversed in hushed tones, but their faces betrayed them as pity and open schadenfreude curled on their lips as their eyes lingered on him.

Looking at them, a conclusion that they were older students of this Sanctum formed in his mind, though the thing that made his brow furrow was their expressions.

Something about their expressions hinted that they knew something more, and the certainty in their expressions showed that clearly.

As Ethan's attention drifted to the two older academy students, behind him, the young Sangrial lady finally stirred from her stupor.

The sting on her cheek remained, but what burned hotter was the weight of the crowd's gazes, which were a mix of mocking laughter filled with amusement and disdain towards her.

Whispers spread like fire through dry grass, and their hushed laughter pricked like sharp, cold needles at her pride.

Her flat chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as a storm of unfamiliar emotions that she had never felt tore through her mind.

As shame, fury, and confusion made her mind go blank, she got an alien feeling of helplessness that she had never felt in her life before.

She couldn't comprehend it.

How could anyone, much less that supposed nobody and these little shits, dare treat her with such disregard?

Her teeth ground together hard enough to ache, and her clenched fists trembled as her nails bit into her palms.

The novel feeling of her first humiliation thickened in her throat and was almost choking her.

Yet when she looked again at the main culprit of her predicament, lounging casually with half-lidded eyes, and his expression distant and utterly indifferent, something inside her snapped.

The veins in her forehead throbbed and threatened to burst.

Seas of blood rose in her bloody eyes, and her rage demanded that she strike again, yet the gazes of the crowd and her previous plight held her like chains.

The crowd was smiling, laughing, and whispering with wicked amusement as they pointed at her as though she were a circus act put on display.

Each murmur carved deeper into her pride, and for a moment, she simply didn't know what to do.

Should she try to fight that bastard to reclaim her pride that was screaming at her to retaliate and win it back, or this unfamiliar feeling of fear of the same failure that she would again be struck down like before?

As her inexperienced self that hadn't gone through any trials trembled in mental agony, she finally succumbed to reason, as she knew the truth of what would happen if she tried to attack him again.

She could already imagine Ethan's hand striking her again, ruthlessly, in front of all these people.

She could imagine the pain, the shame, and the endless humiliation even greater than before that would follow, and that realization alone, bitter as poison, told her the only option left.

Grinding her teeth so hard it felt her jaw might shatter, she turned on her heel.

Her steps were stiff at first, but then they became faster, as though she were trying to outrun the eyes boring into her back.

Whispers followed, and laughter pealed sharper now that she was retreating.

In response, hot and humiliating tears welled in her eyes against her will, but no one pitied her, and not one soul spared her dignity, as to them, she was already a farce, a walking disaster that had finally been slapped into silence.

Only she knew otherwise.

In the bitter pit of her heart, she swore revenge, not only on Ethan, but on the two contemptible girls at his side.

Her oath burned hot and became a silent promise that these newcomers would pay a price so steep they would never forget it.

Ethan's gaze flickered to her as she left, and expertly caught the venom twisting her expression. Content originally comes from novelfire(.)net

Yet he didn't rise and didn't follow her.

He simply noted it and then dismissed her, though his thoughts did not leave the matter untouched.

He didn't pity or make fun of her like the crowd, as he knew that had he been the one to be struck down, they would have laughed even harder.

This was how the real world worked, and he was not some naive child like that idiot girl.

His thoughts returned to the square and turned towards those two older students.