From Trash to Lord of Thunder: The Rise of the Cursed Extra-Chapter 34: Answer My Questions

The afternoon had settled over the storm clan, and the sky, now clear after last night's rain, let golden light stream through the windows of Lira's room.

A cool breeze stirred the linen curtains, carrying the scent of damp earth that clashed with the room's aroma of ink and paper.

Lira sat at a wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of documents: fighter lists, arena schedules, resource reports.

Her pen scratched the paper with a steady Scratch scratch!, signing one permit after another.

'This never ends...' she thought, a dull ache creeping into her neck. 'And I still haven't dealt with Rian...'

BAM!

The door to her room flew open, papers fluttering on her desk.

Lira's head snapped up, eyes narrowing with a flash of anger.

'Who the hell...?' she thought, but seeing the figure in the doorway, her expression shifted to resigned tension.

'Kain,' she thought, clenching her fist until her knuckles whitened.

Kain Cole, in an immaculate black tunic with blue trim and that crooked smile that never meant anything good, strode into Lira's room without asking.

Lira set down her pen and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Kain?" she asked, her tone striving for firmness but betraying a hint of caution.

Kain didn't answer right away. Instead, he sauntered to Lira's bed and flopped onto it, the mattress creaking under him.

He sat up, elbows on his knees, and fixed her with that intense stare that always set her on edge.

"Don't play dumb, Lira," he said, his tone accusatory but with a slight smile. "You know exactly why I'm here."

Lira swallowed, a knot forming in her stomach.

'It's about the arena...' she thought, her heart racing. 'He must've heard me, or maybe that damn announcer.'

Kain was far stronger than her, his skill nearing grandmaster level in water control.

Ironically, those aiming to master water needed a calm, serene temperament...

But Kain was the complete opposite.

'If I tell him, I'm dead...' she thought, gritting her teeth.

Lira took a deep breath and forced a neutral expression.

"Kain, I've been swamped," she said, gesturing at the papers on her desk. "Managing the arena, fights, resources... my head's all over the place. What are you talking about? I..."

Her tone was steady, but her hands trembled slightly under the desk, and Kain cut her off with a scoff, his voice hardening.

"Cut the stupid excuses, Lira!" he snapped, leaning forward.

His blue eyes blazed with anger.

"Explain why you did it. Now."

Kain's posture shifted, shoulders tensing, fists clenching.

It was the same stance he took in the arena right before lunging at an opponent.

'Damn it...' Lira thought, feeling the air drain from her lungs.

Kain was about to lose it.

She tried to buy time, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"Hey, calm down," she said, aiming for reason. "If you're yelling at me about my work, I'll have to tell Father. He won't like you calling what I do for the clan 'stupid.'"

It was a weak threat, and she knew it.

Klaus, the clan leader, barely paid Lira any mind. But she hoped mentioning their father would at least slow Kain down.

It didn't.

CRASH!

Kain sprang from the bed and kicked a nearby chair, smashing it against the wall.

Wooden splinters clattered to the floor, and Lira flinched, her heart leaping to her throat.

"Stop dodging!" he roared, pointing at her. "Don't act high and mighty, Lira. You might have a title now, playing administrator, but you'll never get a high-rank tunic. Know why?"

His voice dropped, but it seethed with venom.

"Because you're a filthy half-blood. You're not Klaus's daughter. Be grateful I even call you my sister, because otherwise, you'd be dead for messing with me."

Lira felt the air freeze in her lungs.

Filthy half-blood.

The words weren't new—Kain threw them at her whenever he was pissed—but they still stung.

Lira knew she wasn't Klaus's biological daughter, adopted on a whim when Kain, as a child, took a liking to her appearance because she resembled him.

She'd clawed her way up in the clan with talent, but...

'I can work myself to death for this clan, and still...' she thought, staring at the chair's broken pieces.

One day, someone like Kain could erase her without blinking.

She knew his threats weren't empty.

As Klaus's legitimate son, Kain had freedoms others couldn't dream of. He could kill within the clan with the flimsiest excuse, especially someone low-ranking like her.

'So I'm still a nobody, huh?' she thought, a lump in her throat.

The realization made her clench her fists, but she couldn't afford to show weakness.

Not in front of Kain.

"What do you want me to say, Kain?" she asked, forcing a steady tone despite a slight tremble. "If you've got a problem with me, spit it out. I don't have time for your games."

It was a risk talking to him like that, but staying silent would be worse.

If he saw her as weak, she was done.

Kain let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms.

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"My games..." he echoed, mocking. "You're the one playing, Lira. I saw it in the arena... Why'd you shout to cheer Rian on?"

He took a step toward her, and Lira had to fight the urge to back away.

"And the best part... when you did, he started winning. What did you do?"