Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 91: You’re the blot

Chapter 91: You’re the blot

Alex sighed heavily, his shoulders squared, his red eyes narrowing as he faced Vaelen in the sunlit corridor of Starhaven Academy.

The taunt "Lost without your boyfriend, huh" grated like sandpaper against his already frayed patience, each word a jab that stung more than he wanted to admit.

The bustling hall had quieted, students slowing their steps, their vibrant tunics catching the prismatic light from the crystal panels overhead, their whispers a soft, buzzing hum as they sensed the brewing storm.

Alex’s frustration from his earlier tutoring session, where he’d fumbled his telekinesis, simmered beneath a layer of hard-won confidence, and Vaelen’s scowl, sharp with contempt, was like a match tossed onto dry kindling.

"I’m really not in the mood for any unproductive conversation," he said, his voice low, firm, his gaze locking onto Vaelen’s gray eyes, his stance unyielding.

He was done with this nonsense, determined to shut it down, even as the weight of his earlier failure lingered, a quiet bruise on his pride.

Vaelen’s lips twisted into a smirk, his dark hair glinting in the sunlight, his angular face alight with mocking amusement that made Alex’s jaw tighten.

"Is that you trying to throw in the towel early?" Vaelen asked, his voice dripping with scorn, leaning forward just enough to make the space between them feel smaller, more charged.

Behind him, his crew of four students, some smirking, others watching with curious, wary eyes, shifted, their presence amplifying the tension like a drumbeat.

The corridor’s vibrant energy, with students weaving through in a flurry of chatter and rustling tunics, became a charged backdrop, the air thick with the scent of parchment and faint, floral elixirs, the marble floor reflecting slivers of rainbow light that danced around them, catching the edges of Vaelen’s smug expression.

Alex sighed again, his frustration flaring into a sharp, defiant edge, his confidence holding firm like an anchor.

He wasn’t about to let Vaelen’s taunts unravel him, not after everything he’d already faced.

"What’s the reason you’re so obsessed with me, Vaelen?" he asked, his voice cutting through the hall’s murmurs like a blade, his question a direct challenge that made a few nearby students pause, their eyes widening.

He took a step forward, hands slipping out of his pockets, posture open and unafraid, daring Vaelen to lay bare the root of his hostility.

The memory of their first encounter at yesterday’s assembly, Vaelen’s whispered jabs among the crowd, his sneers slicing through the applause, burned in Alex’s mind, fueling his resolve.

That bad blood wasn’t his fault, but he wasn’t going to let it fester unchallenged.

Vaelen scoffed, his smirk twisting into a frown, his gray eyes darkening with venom as he stepped closer, shrinking the gap between them until the air felt heavy, electric.

"Obsessed? Don’t flatter yourself," he spat, his dark hair falling slightly over his brow, his face taut with disdain.

"I dislike you because everything about you is wrong. The Council’s growing soft, too weak to see it. If they had any spine, they’d have gotten rid of you the moment you showed up." His words were sharp, meant to wound, each syllable a deliberate strike.

His crew murmured agreement, their voices low, though their glances darted nervously to the surrounding students, the corridor’s prismatic light casting stark shadows across Vaelen’s furious expression.

The whispers of onlookers grew louder, a soft tide of curiosity and unease, their tunics shimmering as they leaned closer, drawn to the drama unfolding.

Alex’s chest tightened, Vaelen’s words hitting like a slap, but he held his ground, his red eyes steady, his frustration tempered by a steely resolve.

Before he could respond, a gruff voice broke in, hesitant but firm, from behind Vaelen.

"Whoa, whoa," said a big, robust boy, his broad shoulders straining the seams of his emerald tunic, his brown eyes wide with unease as he stepped forward, hands raised slightly, like he was trying to calm a spooked animal. "We shouldn’t be talking about the Council like that."

His voice faltered, his face paling under the weight of Vaelen’s reckless words, his robust frame seeming to shrink as he glanced at the other followers, seeking backup that didn’t come.

The hall’s hum dimmed, students pausing mid-step, their curiosity tinged with tension, the air heavy with the scent of wax from nearby lanterns and the distant tang of herbal elixirs.

Vaelen whirled on the boy, his frown deepening, his voice a sharp hiss that sliced through the corridor’s stillness. "What’ll happen if I do?" he demanded, his tone defiant, his posture rigid, as if he was daring the very order of their world to strike him down. "It’s not like the Council will do anything. They don’t do anything."

His words were reckless, a jab at the authority that governed, and his crew shifted uncomfortably, their smirks fading.

The robust boy’s face grew paler, sweat beading on his brow, his silence a retreat as the corridor’s light caught the nervous glint in his eyes, the moment teetering on the edge of something dangerous, the whispers swelling like a gathering storm.

Vaelen turned back to Alex, his scowl intensifying, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl, each word deliberate, meant to cut deep.

"You need to man up and leave our city," he said, his hand gesturing sharply, as if physically casting Alex out.

"Give yourself banishment, remove the blot you are on our world." His crew nodded, their agreement half-hearted, the robust boy staying silent, his eyes fixed on the marble floor.

Alex’s frustration erupted, his confidence surging into a hot, unyielding anger, his voice rising, sharp and clear, cutting through the corridor’s hum like a whipcrack.

"You’re the blot, Vaelen," he shot back, his words ringing out, drawing startled gasps from nearby students, their tunics stilling as they turned to watch, wide-eyed, their breaths held.

"A nasty, mean-spirited elf in a world full of nice, amazing elves. If anyone doesn’t belong here, it’s you." His voice was a blade, honed by the memory of Vaelen’s jabs at the assembly, the bad blood now a blazing fire in his chest.

Vaelen’s face contorted with rage, his gray eyes narrowing to slits, his dark hair trembling as he stepped forward again, closing the gap until they were nearly nose-to-nose, the air between them crackling with hostility.

"Repeat what you just said," he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, his crew tensing behind him.