The maid stood before them, posture perfect, face emotionless—like she'd been carved from disappointment itself.
Then, she spoke. Flat. Direct. Brutal.
"You four are the most dysfunctional party I have ever seen. If you're in a guild, I suggest you quit immediately and take up a new hobby—perhaps collecting trash with your teeth. Together, you don't even amount to half a functioning brain cell. And that's me being generous."
Each word landed like a frying pan to the soul.
Or well—Finn's soul.
Chestelle didn't react. She was still gnawing on a leaf like a starving goat.
Lickthorn blinked slowly from her spot on the ground, giving a lazy thumbs up like this was the greatest day of her life.
Majestria? Completely ignoring everyone while fixing her hair like it was a divine artifact being reassembled.
But Finn…?
He stood there like a kid who just confessed his crush in front of the whole school only to be laughed at and told he had "loser breath."
