"Take these healing potions. They will help with the recovery."
Severin dropped several that he’d bought specifically for the occasion.
"There is one that will help with your broken fingers."
Derrick’s body was swollen. One of the disadvantages of having such a big body was that there was simply more flesh to hit.
He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He spat out blood and stared at Severin with a bloodshot eye, the other one tightly shut.
"You selfish bastard. You planned this from the very beginning, didn’t you? Because how did you know to bring potions for broken bones with you?"
Severin only stared at him before he sighed. "You are stronger, but it isn’t a strength gained through hard work. It makes your weakness more pronounced.
"Your internal organs are very unprotected, and your fingers, your toes... they’re weak for a physical fighter like you."
Derrick didn’t reply or touch the potions.
His eyes were on Severin.
"So what are you going to do now? Kill me?" he asked in a gruff tone.
And as much as he tried to hide it, Severin smelled the fear coming from him. Derrick was afraid.
It was understandable.
If he were Severin, he knew he would kill someone that did something like that. It made his insides quiver just thinking about what might happen in the next instant.
Severin watched him with cold eyes, then he crouched. "If I wanted you dead, you would be dead a long time ago. And I wouldn’t bring you those potions.
"But there’s simply no reason to kill you. Yet. Your silly tantrum is just a mere disturbance. What I want you to know is your place. Maybe you think you are some main protagonist, some shit of a main cast or such.
"But you’re even more worthless," Severin’s voice grew soft. "I will say this only once more. Know your place, Derrick. I promised you power and I’m giving it to you, but that power will be used in my service.
"Next time you try this type of shit, I will use your head as a decoration to my House."
Severin then stood up and returned to the building as if nothing had happened.
Derrick shivered.
That’s one thing that he feared about Severin. He’s like a sadistic bastard, a psychopath. He could smile now and the next instant he would be all angry and furious.
How does one switch between moods like that?
He finally groaned and went to pick a potion. He picked the bone-healing potion first.
But there was one thing curious about Derrick. His eyes were now calm. It wasn’t that he became more submissive. It was that he knew his place.
☆☆☆ ▪︎▪︎ ☆☆
Severin had decided to wait some more before going to his dorm to sleep.
As a House leader, he should be sleeping in the House, but that’s just asking to get killed in the night. The security that the dorm provided couldn’t be compared to his feeble building that could be carried away by any stray wind at the moment.
He rested against the chair and sighed.
The only decoration in the room was a big calendar.
A calendar is a very important thing for Severin.
Time. Date. Happenings.
He must be paying attention to it so that he could reap rewards at the right moment.
And there was just something about looking at the calendar, looking at the time and dates, and then thinking. It was far better than marking it on his system.
The system might be malfunctioning to the point that it couldn’t really help humanity in tracking and leveling up their powers like before.
But at least it saves the energy of carrying smartphones all around.
But Severin couldn’t help but miss the weight of it in his hand, especially when he was out and had to play games.
He blinked and shook his head. He was thinking again, thinking about his other life. But he shouldn’t. He had told himself he wouldn’t. He couldn’t afford to.
Not when he had to focus here to survive.
"...at least I’m glad that Derrick’s problem was laid to rest for now... that bastard will raise his head again once he senses weakness... all of them... and in the future too... it’s like I’m leading a pack of wild dogs... a mistake and they’ll go for my neck..."
Just then, Severin stiffened and his hand went to his sword as his perception heightened about danger.
In the space in front of him, before his open door, sparks of blue lightning gathered and turned into a man.
No, not a man but a student.
But he must be in his twenties.
A final year, then.
Severin stiffened even more.
With his perception, he could feel more than fifteen high-grade artifacts and equipment from the man.
The man appeared facing him and was surprised that Severin was already pointing his sword at him. "Oh? You’re really good. More than they say! Is your Stigma how you realized I would be here?"
"My Stigma," Severin replied with a deadpan expression. But he knew his first reaction earlier wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.
"Oh, come on! How else do you want to explain it? I saw the battle through a projection and immediately came to such conclusions. I’m sure I’m not the only one as well."
Severin still gave him a flat look. "Who the hell are you?"
"Still trying to deny it? Oh well, then we’ll have to go a bit extreme!" The man stared at him intently, his grey eyes like laser beams.
Severin’s skin prickled with goosebumps.
The man nodded to himself. "I see. The Stigma is Acceleration, from the Timeless Immortal Saint? Is that a god? He must not be a very popular or powerful one. The Stigma isn’t groundbreaking then. A shame.
"And what’s that black card in your pocket? An invitation card? To where?"
Severin straightened and returned his sword.
The man raised his brows. "Why are you not aggressive again?"
Severin sat and kept his calm. "Because it’s useless. You’re too powerful."
There’s no point in punching a mountain as a mere human.