My Milf System

(Third Person POV)

"Anna!" One of the girls called out. "You’re a healer, aren’t you?"

Anna paused from gathering firewood, brushing dirt off her trembling hands. She looked up, hesitant, then gave a small nod. "I am... but I’m just a C-rank healer."

"It’s fine. Come help my friend—she’s hurt."

Anna quickly set her bundle of sticks aside and hurried over. A girl sat on a fallen log, holding her leg with a small, shallow cut. "I must’ve gotten it while gathering firewood," she said, wincing dramatically.

Anna knelt feeling relieved it was nothing serious. Healing was the one thing she could do, the only thing that gave her purpose. Maybe... if she helped, they’d see she wasn’t so useless. Maybe they’d accept her, and that way, she wouldn’t be as lonely as she was in her own father’s home.

She reached out, channeling her magic but the girl screamed.

Anna’s breath hitched. "W-what’s wrong?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as her jade-green eyes flickered with panic.

"My wound—it’s burning! It’s getting worse!" the girl shrieked, clutching her leg as if Anna had poured acid on it.

Anna recoiled. That wasn’t possible. Her healing had never hurt anyone before. Had she... done something wrong?

A sharp kick slammed into her face.

Anna’s vision blurred as she was sent sprawling backward, her head hitting the ground with a painful thud.

"What kind of healer are you?!" Lorraine’s furious voice boomed as she stood over her, eyes blazing with disdain. "You’re supposed to be healing people, not making things worse!"

Anna clutched her throbbing cheek, her whole body trembling. Her lips parted, but no words came.

Lorraine smirked. She had waited for a moment like this. Since the very first day Anna arrived at the academy and associated with Asher, her enermy, Lorraine had made it her mission to stomp her into the dirt where she belonged like a weak and useless noble she was.

And now, she had the perfect excuse.

"A healer who can’t even heal a tiny scratch?" Lorraine laughed mockingly. "What a joke. No wonder you’re the weakest noble in history. Your family must be so ashamed."

Anna swallowed hard, her throat burning as the other girls giggled and whispered.

"You’re a failed sperm," Lorraine continued. "Your father should’ve pulled out."

The words stabbed into Anna’s chest like a blade. She looked down, hands clenched in her lap, struggling to breathe through the humiliation.

"I... I’m sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t mean to—"

"’Sorry’? That’s all you have to say?" Lorraine sneered. "You’re just a commoner with a fancy last name. Why don’t you go back to your pathetic little kingdom, Zephandria? Eldoria has enough trash as it is—you’re just adding to the pile."

The girl who had been ’injured’ suddenly stood up—without even limping.

The laughter around Anna grew louder, ringing in her ears like a cruel melody.

They had set her up.

Her chest tightened as she tried to hold back tears, her nails digging into her palms. But she refused to cry in front of them.

That’d only show her weakness.

She forced herself to stand. "I... I apologize for the pain I caused." She bowed slightly.

Lorraine’s lips curled into a smirk. "You think a little ’sorry’ is enough?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock pity.

Anna’s heart pounded painfully in her chest. This wasn’t how she wanted her life in Eldoria to be. She had dreamed of making friends, of finally fitting in—not becoming everyone’s laughingstock.

Lorraine took a step closer. "Carry our firewood back to camp."

Anna hesitated, but respecting someone of higher rank was one of the cruel rules of this world. She had no choice.

"...Yes," she whispered.

Lorraine smirked in satisfaction as she and her girls piled the wood onto Anna’s arms. Some pieces stabbed into her, jagged edges scraping her skin, others dangerously close to her face. But Lorraine just kept stacking more, watching as Anna struggled to hold the weight.

The load was so heavy she could barely see in front of her.

Still, she bore it.

Maybe if she did everything right—maybe if she proved her worth—they’d stop looking at her like this.

Maybe they’d finally... accept her.

Lorraine strutted ahead, swaying her hips like a model on a runway, her silver dress gleaming with every step.

Anna trudged behind, her arms aching, her legs shaking, but she did not complain.

No one offered to help.

By the time she reached the campsite, she couldn’t feel her arms. She collapsed to her knees, the firewood spilling to the ground.

Her breathing was ragged, her body drenched in sweat and exhaustion.

The others were already relaxed under the shade they made a kitchen.

Lorraine walked up to her, holding out a cup. "You thirsty?"

Anna swallowed dryly. Her throat ached for water. She gave a small, hopeful nod, taking the cup with trembling hands.

She took a sip—

And immediately spat it out.

A bitter, revolting taste burned her tongue.

It wasn’t water.

It was urine.

Laughter erupted around her like thunder.

Anna froze, her stomach twisting into knots, her lips trembling as the taste lingered in her tongue.

For the first time, she couldn’t hold it in.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Lorraine leaned in, her voice a cruel whisper. "Aww, is the little fake noble gonna cry?"

Anna quickly wiped her face, but it was too late. They had already seen.

She turned, ready to go to the teacher’s tent—someone had to stop this.

But before she could take a step, a hand yanked her back.

"If you so much as say a word about this," one of Lorraine’s girls hissed, tightening her grip, "We will make you wish you were never born."

Anna looked into her eyes and saw how much she meant it. These girls weren’t playing.

She felt... so small, and just stood there. Silent. Helpless.

Just like she had always been.

Until she heard a familiar voice from the other side of the camp.

Her face lit up.

Asher....

Tbc