Rhys groaned and held up his hand, wrapped in bandages.
"It's NOT broken! It's just injured from blocking a sword that was basically a sun!"
Puddle gasped.
"See? Too famous. Even the sun attacked you!"
"That is NOT how it works—"
Before Rhys could finish, a group of excited first-year students walked past the bench and whispered loudly:
"That's him! That's the guy who fought Zenith!"
"He didn't die!"
"He broke the floor!"
"He made the healers quit!"
Rhys covered his face.
"Why… why do they talk like I'm a disaster event…"
Fate shouted from above,
"AND NOW ENTERING THE ARENA—THE ONLY PEOPLE STILL WILLING TO FIGHT AFTER WATCHING RHYS NEARLY GO EXTINCT!"
Rhys snapped his head up.
"STOP USING MY NAME AS A WARNING LABEL!"
Dreamer, still calm as ever, responded:
"Your combat record is unique. People find it educational."
Rhys stared.
"Educational?! Did I accidentally teach them how to explode?!"
Puddle patted his back.
