School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 4: The Arrogant Roger

The most uptodat𝓮 n𝒐vels are published on 𝒇𝓻𝒆𝒆𝔀𝒆𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝒍.𝓬𝓸𝓶

"What are you daydreaming about?" freewe(b)novel.c(o)m

A classmate nudged Owen, causing him to stumble.

The students were all excited, eager to test their "spirit" levels.

The gamble-like nature of this process made everyone's blood run hot.

Owen stepped forward, his demeanor becoming more natural.

As time passed, each student awakened their "spirit".

There was little sorrow among those who awakened disadvantaged-level "spirits".

After all, they were unaware of the harsh realities of isekai.

Having any "spirit" was comforting enough for now, a first step to finding their place in this new world.

Finally, it was Owen's turn for the ceremony.

The white-haired elder noticed Owen's unusual expression.

Unlike the nervousness displayed by other "saints", Owen was calm and composed, eerily so.

Owen placed his hand on the light ball without a word.

The elder eyed him keenly, sensing something extraordinary about this young man.

Seconds ticked by, but the light ball remained inert.

Owen could almost hear crows cawing in the distance.

The elder's expression shifted slightly, asking Owen to try again.

Owen complied.

Suddenly, the elder's face showed shock, blurting out, "You... you have no 'spirit'?"

His words caused a stir among the crowd.

The races around them all turned to look at Owen, even those previously busy introducing the rules of this world to their own "saints" now focused on Owen.

"How can that be possible? Everyone who comes to our world is a saint chosen by fate."

"Great Elder, could there be a mistake?"

The white-haired elder checked the light ball again but shook his head, showing no sign of error.

The crowd was even more astonished, looking at Owen as if he were a stranger.

"Good heavens, did the Goddess of Fate make a mistake?"

"A regular person among the saints?"

"This guy is in trouble now..."

A muscular saint standing next to the giants asked, puzzled, "What happens if he's not a 'saint'?"

"Uh... since this has never happened before, we're not quite sure. But a normal person in our world... their fate would be quite grim," a giant respectfully explained.

A representative of the lunar elves scoffed disdainfully, "Our world is filled with arcanergy. If he's not a 'saint,' he can't learn to use arcanergy and will remain a mere mortal. If he's lucky, he might serve as a servant to other races; if not, he'll end up as demon fodder."

Owen's classmates looked solemn.

Those who had awakened disadvantaged race "spirits" breathed a sigh of relief.

Human achievement and vanity are often relative.

Compared to Owen, even those with disadvantaged race "spirits" felt superior, having something over one with no "spirit" at all.

Considering that many present were classmates, the lunar elves' saint showed some compassion, "Can we take Owen into our lunar elves? Even if he's just a menial worker, it's better than being a slave outside."

Owen looked towards Eva, the girl from the lunar elves.

The representative of the lunar elves immediately spoke sternly, "Saint, you must not have such a mindset. Being kind to members of other races in isekai is cruelty to our own people."

"This man is clearly forsaken by the Goddess of Fate. Associating with him could bring trouble to our lunar elves."

Eva, feeling pity for Owen, wanted to speak up, but the lunar elves' representative pulled her aside, "I know you have a kind heart, saint, but 'out of sight, out of mind.' It's better to have less contact with a man abandoned by the Goddess of Fate..."

Suddenly, members of various races began pulling their saints away from Owen, leaving him in a large empty space.

Owen's eyes twinkled, a faint smile on his lips.

He walked away unconcerned, as his classmates, who never paid attention to him before, now avoided him as if he were a plague.

"Let's stay away from him, so he doesn't affect our 'spirit.'"

"Isn't that a bit exaggerated?"

"Didn't you hear what the lunar elves' person said? Owen is a man spurned by the Goddess of Fate."

"Yeah, let's all keep our distance."

"..."

Ignoring the harsh words around him, Owen returned to his original spot, keeping his own pace.

For a moment, he felt lost, realizing the lunar elves' representative was right.

Not being chosen by a race, he didn't even know where to go next.

Owen pondered briefly, deciding he should find a place where humans congregated.

There might still be a chance for survival.

"Hey, why are you still standing here? Waiting to see if there's anyone else as unlucky as you?"

Roger stood with his arms crossed about ten meters from Owen, mocking him.

He was surrounded by a group of girls and boys, all wearing a submissive expression of reverence towards him.

Owen glanced at Roger, his eyes shifting subtly, "I'm standing here. What are you going to do about it?"

At that moment, the system alerted: [Fate points +3]

He was slightly surprised, wondering how his fate points increased without doing anything.

[Host, your actions did not follow the predetermined path of destiny, hence the increase in fate points. However, as you only slightly altered the course of the future, the increase is minimal. I must remind the host that recklessly changing the course of the future comes with a price, and whether it is good or bad depends on the host.]

This response from the system enlightened Owen.

Originally, after finding out he had no "spirit," he would have just stood there, not daring to respond to Roger's taunts, like a child upset over not getting candy.

But now, Owen was starting to fight back, slightly altering the future's trajectory, resulting in an increase in fate points.

However, changing the future's course carelessly could come at a cost.

Indeed, Roger became furious, his eyes bulging with rage.

Owen seemed to see some sort of energy flowing around Roger.

Perhaps this was arcanergy?

In that enchanting heavenly sound, he clearly remembered that members of the advanced race were born with the ability to use arcanergy, a rule that also applied to Roger.

"You think this is still school? This is isekai, and here, I could kill you without any teacher stopping me!" Roger flexed his shoulders, advancing towards Owen.

Erica, standing beside Roger, looked slightly uneasy.

Elves always preferred peace and abhorred bloodshed.

But standing up for an ordinary person against Roger, a saint of the angel race, didn't seem worth it to her, so she chose to remain silent.

Owen internally groaned, wondering what he could use to defend himself.

Suddenly, an idea struck him.

Pointing at Roger, he laughed lightly, "Come on, I'm a person forsaken by the Goddess of Fate. If you want to contaminate your 'spirit' by touching me, then go ahead."

Saying this, Owen walked forward arrogantly.

Realizing this, Roger's expression shifted.

Seeing Owen's assertive approach, he began to back away, as if he had seen a demon, "Don't come near me, I was just joking!"

His followers also retreated in fear.

Their "spirit" levels weren't high to begin with, and if Owen contaminated them, it could spell disaster.

Owen continued to advance, his aura overpowering.

He alone managed to push back more than twenty saints, including Roger, who, losing all composure, began to shout desperately, "Save me, someone save me. I am a saint of the angel race..."

The white-haired elder observed the childish antics, noting how Owen single-handedly forced a retreat of dozens.

He mused to himself, "This man seems more like a 'saint' than any of them. Why doesn't he have a 'spirit'? Could he really be cursed by the Goddess of Fate?"

Roger, terrified of having his "spirit" contaminated, yelled at Erica in panic, "Save me, Erica! When I return to the angel race, I'll tell them you helped me."

Erica's expression was torn, hesitating whether to intervene or not.

At that moment, a thunderous voice boomed from the sky: "Who dares to bully a saint of my race? They shall be slain!"

Owen looked up.

The sky now mirrored the scene he had seen in the prophecy — a massive pair of wings slowly unfurling from the horizon!