The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 234 - You Think My Polish Is Muck, Well I Think... I Think You Suck!

Chapter 234: Chapter 234 - You Think My Polish Is Muck, Well I Think... I Think You Suck!

On the competition field, Corde held herself together. Whether the Goltbred was responsible for the feeling a bit ago or not, her suspicion wasn’t proof. Taking action out of nowhere would not look good and be hard to explain. At the minimum, she could say pretty clearly that the girl she had spoken to before was at *least* one thing.

’Smart. Good at guiding people where she wants them to go... or talking them into the ground.’

"Your husband has many remarkable talents. Perhaps some instruction would help channel that potential in a different direction."

The suggested invitation carried an obvious challenge beneath its surface courtesy. While the moment of control had unnerved her, the fact that it was detectable seemed to mean that she was still stronger in the spiritual energy that caused it. Which made sense... she was much older than this child.

The heiress looked at her flatly, not even bothering to smile since she wasn’t exactly happy talking to someone who had seen her Qat as an enemy. As brief as it was.

"Developing his own approach through solitary, diligent practice has served him very well so far. Yet, if that is meant to be an offer, I’m sure he would be delighted to learn from someone so accomplished."

The one being spoken of watched the stiff exchange with light concern... and the fragment in the smaller teen’s chest churned with complex emotions after she spoke. For Qat, her wife’s emphasis on solitary’ wasn’t wrong - most of the time that was how it was.

But they had spent many hours training together when they were young that meant a lot to Qatrand. They also found time since the marriage here and there for El to comment or teach her something. Then, there was the illusory training tool that had most refined her methods before this competition and the Descent.

Being unable to openly acknowledge exactly how much Elua’s guidance had genuinely helped felt like a betrayal. But so would speaking of her capabilities and knowledge when she was intending to keep them secret. So she kept silent under the watchful eyes of the older cultivator - and the crowd who had remained chittering in quiet bursts.

Not only had they seen such a famed person show their skills, but they felt like they also witnessed quite a few amazing things. The way the unexpected match ended, the rushing gait and stop of the small cultivator at the edge of the ring, and now the tense looking stare off and low conversation the three were holding.

The woman in her dark blue battledress opened the next exchange.

"The results do speak for themselves."

"Don’t they? A shame that those watching only now have missed so many of the little improvements that led here."

The catty comment in a ’naive’ tone was intended for the ’older’ cultivator, but also referenced the Yecine and even the crowd around them.

"I’d like to formally offer guidance after the Descent. People with promise should have access to... an experienced perspective."

Corde’s gaze fixed pointedly on the small cultivator. The intent to provide an alternative influence from whatever terrible one she imagined Elua had over the other cultivator was clear. This left discordant emotions... as the fact that she spoke up at all to protect her Qat was good.

’The fact that she thinks I am doing something nefarious or against my beloved’s wishes is not. That she thinks I want no other perspectives than my own in my darling’s head. Her training will probably be filled with moments where she tries to suggest our separation.’

The misguided obstacle that would present was instinctually unwelcome. Truly, even the concept of someone coming in and taking *her* time with the husband-wife at *all*, even for *unbiased* training... was difficult to stomach!

"How generous. I’m sure additional instruction would only enhance what he’s already achieved through dedication. Right?"

The brunette’s tone remained ’bright’ without it turning into a smile. Qat felt her wife’s cloud of spirit tighten possessively around her. She was clearly unhappy.

’Or threatened?’

"Such matters would require consultation with my family’s elders."

"The offer stands. I can send an official letter by the end of the competition."

"So certain. My husband must have really drawn your attention."

"A fresh perspective can help one see their situation more clearly."

The Frozen Duskblade’s words drew another pulse of complex emotions through their connection. Qat kept her expression neutral. She longed to defend both her wife’s genuine support and her own agency in choosing - or refusing - this path.

’We can discuss this properly tonight.’

The thought filled her with a warmth that helped steady her. For now, she could let them wage their battle of implications while maintaining diplomatic silence. While in the body of the cute girl, a certain brain repeated calming mantras with a sort of warmth all her own.

A hot, fiery warmth. It was very hard not to stomp on the ground in anger!

’What clearly! You see nothing! You’re blind! You have eyes, but you use them to see only what you want, you stupid-’

Her calming mantras could obviously use work. Yet she still curtsied perfectly as the pair offered final salutes to each other. She still walked calmly towards her family viewing area. Despite wanting to hang tight onto the tall, raven haired teenager until the ’older’ girl turned her hair color blonde.

Until her Qat picked to be that ’personal matters’ self for her *cute wife*.

The Whispering Skydancer took sudden chirping flight from the railing as Elua approached. It drew several amused glances for those who had paid attention since the creature became part of their household. The bird’s habit of abandoning its perch when its mistress was particularly emotional had become something of a running joke.

Her steps carried her past where Aleck sat engaged in animated discussion with her father. The meteor hammer user’s earlier nervousness in front of the Guild representatives seemed forgotten as Ondua gestured enthusiastically about some point of whip technique. His favored weapon shared qualities with the semi-finalist.

Their spirits resonated with genuine interest in each other’s styles rather than mere political courtesy. His daughter knew he got along with everyone given the chance. She was sure this was going to be the result.

But it was hard to care about being right at the moment.