Brian wanted to wipe that grin off his friend's face—at least hurt the thing that was wearing it.
He punched once. Twice. A third time. And still, the demonized boy didn't budge.
Brian, on the other hand, had already spent too much mana, too many stored flames. None of it made Jonathan so much as flinch. His face remained cold, emotionless.
Each strike felt like hitting a wall—no, a mountain. Brian could crush walls now, tear through steel with his fists. But this... this was something else entirely.
"Damn you! Why do I have this power and strength if I can't do a damn thing?! What's the point of it all?!" Brian shouted.
He was unraveling. Nothing worked. Not the class change, not the levels, not even the so-called support of his useless classmates. His friends were gone. His reputation is less than dust.
It felt like the fire spirit had only tossed him scraps for skills, and with it, half the strength Logan or even Lisa had been granted.
