CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56

Clayton, who had fallen, quickly turned to see who had bumped into him.

The moment he saw the person, he froze in surprise—it was Bravus.

Bravus looked flustered, frantically brushing off Clayton’s clothes as if trying to fix the mess he had caused.

"I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to, Young Master Clayton!" he said, his tone seemingly sincere.

To the average onlooker, it sounded like a heartfelt apology. But standing this close, Clayton wasn’t fooled. The faint, smug smile on Bravus’s lips betrayed his true intentions.

Anger surged in Clayton.

"Bravus! What do you think you’re doing, bumping into me while I was holding my food?"

Bravus sneered for a moment, then quickly shifted to a wounded expression, as if he were the victim.

"Clayton, I know it was my fault. Please, forgive me. It was purely accidental. I mean, what would I gain by doing it on purpose?"

Clayton’s fury deepened.

"Don’t play games with me, Bravus!" he snapped, his eyes blazing.

But Bravus showed no fear. On the contrary, he leaned even harder into his role as the misunderstood victim.

"I already told you it was an accident! Why are you accusing me like this? You’re being petty, Clayton!"

Whispers rippled through the room as people turned to watch, many shooting disapproving glances at Clayton. He could feel their judgmental stares. That’s when it hit him—Bravus was manipulating public opinion against him.

Clayton’s fists clenched in frustration, unsure how to respond. He was about to let it go for the sake of Uncle Henry’s gathering when Bravus stepped in again, pretending to help clean him up.

To onlookers, it looked like a kind gesture. But Clayton knew better—Bravus was deliberately smearing more food on him.

Then, just to twist the knife, Bravus flashed a mocking smile.

That was the last straw.

Bang!

Clayton’s fist crashed into Bravus’s face.

"Argh! Clayton, you—!" Bravus cried out, clutching his cheek.

"What about me?" Clayton shot back coldly.

His glare made Bravus instinctively recoil. But the crowd wasn’t on Clayton’s side.

A young woman stepped forward, scolding him. "Sir, are you serious? He may have been at fault, but he was trying to help. Why would you act so aggressively?!"

Bravus, now the sympathetic victim, smirked subtly, clearly satisfied. Clayton’s irritation boiled over.

"Oh, so even if I’m in the right and he’s in the wrong, I can’t call him out? And who said that bastard was helping? He was making it worse on purpose!"

The young woman looked at him with disappointment.

"Please, don’t twist the facts. We all saw what happened."

Clayton let out a bitter laugh.

"Hah. And you really think what you saw was the truth? Even your eyes can deceive you."

"Sir, I apologize for the mistake. But please stop making a scene. This is a public place—show some decency," she said firmly.

Clayton’s fists tightened, his voice rising.

"Oh, now you’re apologizing on his behalf? Who even are you—some self-proclaimed hero?"

Her expression hardened. She was now convinced he was the one in the wrong.

"Are you incapable of understanding human language? I already told you—don’t cause trouble! Even if my friend messed up, he apologized. But you just made things worse! Didn’t your parents teach you to return evil with kindness? If everyone acted like you, the world would fall apart!"

Clayton fell silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

Swoosh!

A shimmering layer of water armor enveloped his body. In the next instant, his hand lashed out—

Slap!

A sharp crack echoed as his palm struck her cheek, sending her stumbling sideways.

"Who do you think you are, insulting my parents?! If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to me! Let’s settle this now!"

The room went dead silent. No one had expected Clayton to actually slap a woman.

Her friends rushed to her side, glaring at him. A red handprint blazed across her cheek.

"You! What kind of man hits a woman?!"

Clayton scoffed.

"Oh, is that the rule now? Women are off-limits, no matter what? Listen, sweetheart, this is a world of swords and magic. You don’t get to rewrite the rules."

"You were the one preaching about returning evil with kindness. Now that I’m the villain, why are you angry?"

The young woman opened her mouth to argue.

"But—"

"But what? I have to be kind to evil people, but you don’t? Sounds like a double standard, Miss Righteous."

She went quiet, the contradiction in her logic clear—but even so, she couldn’t accept being slapped.

She stepped forward, ready to fight.

Clayton wasn’t stupid. He immediately prepared a spell. The air around him grew tense.

Just as the confrontation was about to explode—

"Enough! If you want to fight, take it outside!"

A massive figure stood up, exuding pressure that made the whole room tremble. A six-star knight trainee!

Clayton quickly lowered his guard and bowed respectfully. The young woman was still fuming, but one of her friends pulled her back.

"Why are you stopping me?! He needs to be taught a lesson!" she protested.

Her friend just shook his head. "Do you really think you were in the right?"

"Of course! That guy’s arrogant and cruel!"

He sighed. "It’s obvious. That weak-looking Bravus deliberately provoked the hothead. And you only made things worse. If Clayton was truly at fault, why didn’t the knight throw him out? That says a lot."

She didn’t want to hear it and kept ranting. The young man could only sigh. While Clayton might’ve gone too far, she shouldn’t have gotten involved at all.

He was beginning to understand what Clayton meant—this girl was just playing the self-righteous hero.

Meanwhile, Clayton and the others cleaned up the spilled food. Thankfully, the mess hadn’t spread too far.

Clayton regretted his outburst. He wasn’t sure if it was the sight of the homeless earlier... or the effects of the wine—maybe both.

He silently promised himself to avoid both in the future, for the sake of better self-control.

Once he cleaned himself off using his water-circulation armor—

Swoosh!

—he looked good as new.

The onlookers were amazed. None of them knew what spell he’d used.

Thanks to all his skill entries reaching level four, Clayton could now control water magic on par with a three-star apprentice mage.

Once the tension died down, the banquet resumed.

Clayton didn’t drink much after that, but the others were already tipsy.

"Hey, Clayton, we were worried about you growing up without a dad... but you turned out just fine—independent and successful!"

"I even heard you got rich helping people with farming?" Henry slurred, clearly drunk.

Clayton smiled politely. "Not really. I was just lucky. My father left a lot of farming tips behind."

"Oh, come on, don’t be modest! I’ve heard your wheat harvests were incredible!"

Clayton only chuckled.

Meanwhile, someone sitting nearby was watching Clayton with sharp, calculating eyes.

"Looks like I’ve found a fat little sheep tonight..."