Chapter 45

Camelia and Airi burst through the door of the venue, perhaps pitying me for having no guests, or perhaps unable to forgive me for altering the original story by having a wedding with Glacia, as if they were fairies of the original Taliban.

The ancient text “Myeongsim Bogam” says that discussing wealth in matters of marriage is the law of barbarians. So, I had planned to say that I wouldn’t need any wedding gifts when I got married later. But Camelia and Airi brought gifts anyway. Of course, it wasn’t money or treasure—it was chaos. Did you see that shattered door fly off and destroy the nearby statue? That statue was probably as old as the venue itself, and they completely obliterated it… UNESCO would’ve had a fit if they saw this.

Melissa, who might have been a UNESCO agent, was trembling with rage. Of course, as someone affiliated with UNESCO, she couldn’t just let such cultural vandalism slide. Destroying cultural heritage? In Melissa’s eyes, Camelia and Airi probably looked like Red Guards right now.

Melchior, maintaining a neutral stance, quietly sighed. Whether he didn’t want to get involved or was just annoyed by what was about to happen, his expression and the situation suggested the latter. Why is the barbarian warrior the most calm and rational one here? It’s like a saint passing by, shaving her head and chanting sutras.

Melissa was clearly furious but forced a fake smile and asked, “Camelia, and our leader’s daughter… What grand and noble reason could you possibly have for disrupting my daughter’s ceremony? And even smashing the statue from the venue where I married my husband…?”

Ah, if it’s that venue, Camelia and Airi should bow their heads and apologize. Memories are like treasures, as Yibai once said. Trampling on memories is unforgivable, and even the gods would forgive any retaliation. So, whatever Melissa does now, the gods will forgive her. Yibai? He’s not that poet, but my friend from a past life.

“If you don’t give me a convincing reason… whether you’re comrades or the leader’s daughter, you’re all getting executed… You know I’ll do it if I say I will, right…?”

Melissa’s anger made her speech choppy. Those of us who know her character well, like Glacia and Melchior, understood what this meant. Even if they gave a reason as grand as Talulah’s, she wouldn’t forgive them—she’d tear them apart.

Look, Melissa’s Wings of Blood are sprouting behind her, and droplets of blood are gathering from everywhere. Was there a blood donation truck nearby?

But it wasn’t just us who knew her character well. Camelia, having been our comrade for many years, also knew Melissa’s temperament.

“You’re already thinking of killing us, aren’t you, Melissa? No matter what reason we give, you’ll try to kill us, so why bother answering?”

“Haha… You know me well, you wretched woman.”

“Though we’ve only been together for a fleeting year, I’m not foolish enough to not understand your personality.”

“You little brat, all mouth and no action…”

A year is just a fleeting moment, and Camelia, a half-elf, is called a brat? Short-lived beings like Melchior and I couldn’t keep up with this conversation. Melchior must’ve felt the same, as our eyes met, and we both shook our heads. The meaning was probably the same: let’s not get involved in these long-lived creatures’ fights; it’ll only make things worse. Is the barbarian warrior the most rational and reasonable one here? The answer is simple.

Fake madness like a barbarian warrior can’t keep up with the real madness of vampires and half-elves. No matter how hard a fool tries, they can’t beat a genius. Just like in Naruto, no matter how much you train in taijutsu or ninjutsu, you can’t beat the bloodline spoon or reincarnation spoon. It’s the same here. No matter how much barbarian warriors roar and tear apart monsters, they can’t match the madness of vampires and half-elves who’ve lived for centuries.

“A brat, huh… Ah, now that I think about it, Melissa, you’re pretty old. Marrying Melchior is practically a crime if you think about it. Though, looking at your appearance, it’s a crime in another way.”

“Shut up.”

“But if you’ve lived that long, shouldn’t you act your age? It’d be better if you did.”

“You damn half-elf brat!”

Unable to contain her anger, Melissa spread her Wings of Blood and flew at Camelia. In an instant, she formed a giant hand of blood, grabbed Camelia, and flew out. They crashed through the wall, but there was no need to worry. Aren’t they all monster-like heroes? We should be more concerned about the shattered wall. Doing such things in a place of memories, Melissa truly is a Red Guard. And since she’s a blood magic user, her spells are all red.

The guests were stunned by the sudden chaos but stayed in their seats, trembling. If they left without permission, who knows what Melissa would do? Damn vampires, instilling fear in people. If Vampire Hunter Abraham Lincoln had seen this, he would’ve smacked her head with a silver cane, telling her not to trample on people’s free will.

Melchior sighed and said, “Damn it… Werner, what do we do?”

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out and resolve, brother.”

“Why do I have to resolve it again?”

“Melissa is your wife, isn’t she?”

Camelia and Melissa are comrades, but strictly speaking, they’re not my family. But Melchior is Melissa’s husband, isn’t he? Yibai once told me not to get involved in other people’s family fights. There’s no good in sticking your nose in such troublesome matters.

So, I planned to step back from this mess and just enjoy some popcorn. Original salted popcorn is the best; onion or caramel flavors are heresy. I’m not righteous enough to stop those who walk the path of heresy, but if they try to drag heresy into my finances, I’ll unleash a Confucian punch combo. In short, if I asked for popcorn and someone brought onion flavor, I’d beat them like a dog on a hot day.

Unfortunately, there was no popcorn in the venue.

But something more interesting than popcorn frying caught my eye.

Glacia and Airi were glaring at each other. And from very close range, too. It was like those MMA fights where the fighters stare each other down before the match. Sparks were literally flying from their eyes—it wasn’t just a manga-style exaggeration.

I filled a plate with butter biscuits and offered it to Melchior. He took a big bite.

“It’s gone stale and dry. Tastes terrible.”

Then, the sound of swords clashing rang out. Airi threw the first punch with a knife, and Glacia deflected it with a draw-cut technique. That’s my disciple, never forgetting the lesson of striking first. In any game, attack speed is always the meta. That’s why.

“Brother, aren’t you going to stop them…?”

Glacia closed the distance to Airi in an instant and swung at her side. If that attack had landed, Airi would’ve been instantly sliced in half, but she dodged by leaning back. Whether it was god-tier reflexes or the blessing of the side’s Loa, it was an incredible dodge. It must be because of my excellent teaching skills. Today, I deserve some praise.

Melchior, who was watching their fight with interest, still had his arms crossed.

“Interfering in a warrior’s duel is the act of a coward. Northern warriors never intervene in duels, even if it’s their own child fighting. And my daughter isn’t weak, Werner.”

Ah, right. Interfering in a makgora is a great dishonor.

“Hmph, as you wish.”

“By the way, your disciple is no ordinary one either. Considering her lineage, it’s expected, but her ability to read my daughter’s movements so well must be due to her instructor’s skill.”

“Really? Just a month ago, she seemed pretty hopeless.”

“Those movements are no different from a warrior who’s crossed through hell, Werner.”

I’ve only put Airi in a few real battles, and if her skills are on par with a warrior who’s survived hell…

It must mean my teaching skills are exceptional. From today, I am the Great Teacher Oni… no, the Great Teacher Werner.