Dinner with Terio

I walked out of the sect. Every step I made was marked with insults. 

'Those fellow disciples of mine are really vicious,' I thought, smirking. 

While they hurled insult after insult at me, I allowed the warmth of my robe to gently coat my flesh. 

Because this wasn't a simple robe. 

It looked just like the cloth that every other disciple in the sect wore. It had the same color, the same cut, the same length, and even the same decorations on its sleeves and belt. 

But it was a product of a level sixteen tailor rather than a mass-produced cloth. Instead of its only job being to shield one from nakedness, my robe was as good as a magical armor straight from some power fantasy novel. 

For every insult thrown my way, my smile would grow slightly bigger. Hearing those people fall right into my act while knowing the truth about the discrepancy between them and me was just too amusing.