Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 51. Meeting a Friend

"But you do look fully bad, Cassius."

A soft, soothing voice called out from behind me, slicing through the haze of exhaustion clouding my mind.

I turned my head stiffly, my body screaming in protest, to see who it was.

Standing there, amidst the scorched red earth and broken terrain, was a familiar figure:

A young woman with golden blonde hair cascading like sunlight, and striking violet eyes that shimmered gently under the fading light.

She wore the same white uniform adorned with intricate golden linings, immaculate despite the chaos surrounding us.

Freya Winterbane.

A smile tugged at the corner of my bloodied lips. I forced myself to pivot fully toward her, trying my best to hide the limp in my steps.

Chuckling, I said, "Hey, I’m not that bad... maybe."

I was lying through my teeth.

My body was on the verge of collapse, every muscle aching, brain half-fried from mana overuse.

But no way in hell was I letting her know that.

Freya gave a soft, knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. "If you say so... but do take a rest, Cassius. You look like you’ll fall over any second."

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, feeling the dried blood crack along my skin. "Yeah, yeah... I’ll rest. Just need to find a good spot to crash first."

She sighed lightly, as if dealing with an especially stubborn child.

Without another word, she reached up and tapped her necklace—a delicate, silver ornament embedded with a ruby gemstone.

With a soft flicker of light, a small vial appeared in her hand—a vial filled with a deep crimson liquid.

She held it out to me with a gentle smile. "Here. Take this. It’ll stabilize your condition."

I didn’t hesitate.

Gratefully, I snatched the vial from her hand and downed it in one gulp, the liquid burning a warm trail down my throat before spreading through my battered body.

Almost immediately, I felt the effects.

My muscles loosened.

The burning in my brain dulled.

My breathing steadied.

I exhaled heavily, wiping away the stray drops from my lips with the back of my hand.

"You can... do that?" I asked, a little surprised.

Freya nodded, her expression calm and composed. "The exam restricts us from using external inventories—not our own tools. As long as I prepared beforehand and kept the items on me or inside personal storage, I can use them freely."

After explaining, she tilted her head slightly, violet eyes studying me.

"You didn’t know that?"

I stared at her blankly for a second, blinking.

’What do you think, girl? If I knew that, would I be standing here half-dead, covered in blood, and missing a damn sword? Use your brain cells, woman!’

Of course, I didn’t actually say that.

Instead, I smiled sheepishly and scratched my cheek. "Yeah... no, I didn’t. That’s why I don’t even have a weapon now."

Her eyes widened in horror.

"You were fighting that drake without any weapons?!"

I quirked an eyebrow. "How did you think I was fighting? Do you see any sword or spear lying around here?"

Freya’s cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment.

She quickly averted her gaze, muttering, "Yeah... you’re right. That’s... impressive."

While she fumbled for words, my attention flicked past her—and then I froze.

Behind Freya, a sea of people stretched out across the rocky, reddish landscape.

Dozens of examinees—maybe fifty or more—stood in loose formation, some looking tense, others cautious, all casting wary glances around the area.

An entire group.

’Was she building a freaking army while I was busy getting smashed into the dirt by a baby dragon?’

Leaning closer to Freya, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "When did you create an army?"

She blinked, confused. "Army? What army?"

Following my gaze, she turned her head, finally realizing what I meant.

Her violet eyes softened, and she gave me a serene, almost innocent smile.

"We just met along the way," she said simply. "Instead of fighting each other for survival, we decided it was better to cooperate. To help each other pass the examination together."

She let out a small sigh, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Surprisingly, everyone agreed. No betrayals. No backstabbing. At least... not yet."

Her voice grew softer near the end, a flicker of doubt crossing her expression.

I studied her for a moment, amused.

Trusting people so easily... Freya really was too good for this hellhole of a world.

’Actually nearly each of the heroines were like that, weren’t they?’

Still, I couldn’t deny it—the strategy was smart.

Forming alliances, gathering strength in numbers—it was a textbook tactic for survival.

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling my body slowly, finally starting to recover thanks to the potion.

"You’re too kind for your own good, Freya," I said, smirking. "Let’s just hope none of your new ’friends’ decide to stab you in the back."

She smiled again, a small but unwavering light in her eyes.

"If they try... I’ll just have to trust that you’ll protect me, won’t you, Cassius?"

I stared at her for a long second.

Then laughed—a genuine, raw laugh that echoed across the broken landscape. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Yeah," I said finally, tapping my knuckles lightly against her shoulder. "I’ll watch your back. Promise. That’s what friends are for, right?"

She hummed softly in response, the sound barely audible over the crunch of the cracked, rocky ground beneath our feet.

Without waiting for any protest, she gently took my hand in hers.

"Come on," Freya said, her voice filled with an almost childlike excitement. "Let me introduce you to the others."

I let myself get dragged along, grumbling under my breath, "But is it really necessary, Freya?"

She glanced over her shoulder at me, smiling so sweetly it was almost criminal.

"You’ve changed from a pacifist to a fist-first brute," she teased, "but even then, you’re still scared of socializing."

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Some things don’t change, you know."

Freya sighed, a heavy, theatrical sound. "You just don’t want to change."

I gasped, placing a hand over my chest as if mortally wounded. "How did you know?!"

Without missing a beat, she grinned mischievously and said, "I’m a witch."

I immediately pulled my hand free from hers, my face turning serious.

Dropping to the ground with exaggerated urgency, I started patting around the rocky soil, pretending to search for something.

Puzzled, she tilted her head. "What are you looking for?"

I looked up at her with a flat expression. "I’m searching for wood to burn the witch."

The words came out deadpan, but inside, I was already laughing at my own joke.

A beat of silence fell between us.

No trees. No bushes. Just rocky, cracked earth and the reddish soil like dried blood.

No wood in sight.

But apparently, Freya found something better—a fist-sized rock.

Before I could react, she hurled it at me with alarming speed.

THUNK!

The rock dented the side of my head with a dull, painful thud.

A collective gasp echoed from the crowd of examinees behind her, all fifty or so of them witnessing the brutal scene unfold.

I peeked from under my hair, noticing a good portion of the guys glaring daggers at me as if I’d just insulted their goddess.

They probably couldn’t believe why their saintess started fighting someone, from their perspective I must have done something heinous.

’At least one thing is clear...’ I thought dryly. ’They won’t betray her. They’re all too busy trying to get in her good graces.’

Fucking love-sick bastards.

Rubbing the forming lump on my head, I whined, "Wow! Aren’t you supposed to be the mother of this little group? How could you smash my head with a rock?! I was joking, you know."

Freya, cheeks faintly pink with embarrassment, struggled to maintain her graceful image. Her voice cracked slightly despite her calm posture.

"That joke was really bad... Don’t do that again."

I clicked my tongue in mock offense. "Nah. It ain’t happening. My joke was good and I’ll deliver it again—and better next time."

A vein visibly popped on her forehead.

"First, you tried to burn me—"

"Metaphorically!" I cut in immediately, raising a finger to make my point clear.

Freya paused, blinking, as if processing my words.

Then, as if a light bulb had gone off in her mind, she nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah... You haven’t done anything. That was just a figure of speech. I... overreacted. I’m sorry."

I waved my hands dramatically, still grinning. "No, no, no! Don’t apologize!"

A relieved smile spread across her face.

"Thanks—" she started to say—

—but her words choked mid-sentence when she saw the expression on my face.

I had crouched down again, this time smearing both my hands with the black, dusty dirt coating the ground.

Grinning ear to ear like a devil about to unleash a prank, I began approaching her with slow, deliberate steps.

Visible horror flashed across her features.

She immediately screamed, pointing at me. "Stay away from me! ART! He’s corrupted you!!"

The sudden betrayal in her voice made me bark out a laugh.

’Poor Art...’ I thought, chuckling. ’The guy gets blamed every time someone goes a little crazy.’

I kept stalking forward, waggling my dirt-covered fingers menacingly.

"Don’t worry, Freyaaa..." I drawled. "I’m just gonna share a bit of good luck. A personal blessing."

"That’s not how blessings work!!" she shrieked, backpedaling rapidly toward the stunned group of examinees.

Some of the guys instinctively stepped forward, as if preparing to shield her, but the sheer ridiculousness of the scene made them hesitate awkwardly.

Before anyone could intervene, Freya scooped up another rock—and this time, warned me with her eyes.

I threw my hands up in surrender, laughing. "Alright, alright! Truce! I surrender to the mighty witch of the battlefield!"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, lowering the rock very slowly.

The group behind her exhaled in collective relief, some smiling awkwardly at the strange dynamic between us.

Freya, cheeks flushed and breathing slightly heavy, turned back to me, an exasperated yet fond expression on her face.

"You," she muttered, "are going to be the death of me."

"Only metaphorically," I said with a wink.

Her laughter, soft and genuine, finally broke through.

’That’s how you get in her good grace.’