Ross nodded, his gaze lingering on Freya’s position for a brief moment before he departed with Irina.
Freya had little interest in the subsequent collective luncheon.
She changed her clothes and headed out with Lyra to dine at a nearby restaurant.
The afternoon sun filtered through the restaurant’s clean glass windows, casting a warm glow over the checkered tablecloth.
Compared to the opulent clamor of the Royal Academy’s banquet hall, this small establishment on the edge of the Academy District felt exceptionally peaceful and simple.
The air was filled with the savory aroma of roasted meat, the richness of stew, and the wheaty scent of freshly baked bread, blending into a comforting, everyday atmosphere.
Freya had traded her academy uniform for a simple, cream-colored casual dress.
Her long hair was loosely pinned up, revealing her fair neck.
She sat by the window with a steaming cup of herbal tea before her, calmly watching the occasional passerby as if she were still processing the information and emotions brought about by that “perfect performance” earlier in the morning.
“Hehe, meat~ meat~ delicious meat~”
Opposite her sat Lyra, who was feasting on a mountain of roasted ribs, sausages, and meat patties.
She had already discarded the restrictive dress that had made her so uncomfortable, opting instead for the casual clothes Freya had prepared for her—a simple dark shirt and trousers with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her long white hair tied back in a low ponytail.
She had completely abandoned the etiquette she had tried so hard to maintain at the banquet hall.
She used both hands—though she grudgingly used a knife and fork under Freya’s warning gaze, her posture was anything but elegant—eating with great relish.
Her cheeks bulged, and her eyes squinted in satisfaction.
“Boss, this is so good! This too!”
Lyra praised the food through a mouthful of meat, her cutlery clinking loudly against her plate.
“This is 10,000 times better than those cold, tiny little things at the banquet!”
Watching her eat so voraciously yet full of life, the icy chill in Freya’s eyes seemed to melt slightly in the face of such mundane warmth.
She picked up her tea and blew on it gently.
“Eat slower. No one is going to take it from you.”
Though her voice remained flat, it carried less of her usual aloofness.
“Hehe, you’re the best, Boss!”
Lyra looked up, a greasy grin spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling.
“Buying me all this meat! You’re seriously the best boss in the world!”
As she spoke, she leaned forward as if she were about to pounce on Freya to show her gratitude.
Her mouth, of course, was covered in oil.
Freya wordlessly pushed her teacup forward to create a bit of distance, using a single sharp look to stifle the girl’s impulse.
“Just eat.”
The meaning was clear: If you come any closer, you’re dead.
Lyra shrank back and chuckled, returning to her task.
However, she visibly slowed her pace and began trying to cut her food in a more “civilized” manner.
There weren’t many customers in the restaurant.
Aside from them, there were only a few students in the corner wearing uniforms from the nearby Artisan Academy, talking in low voices, and a couple who looked like ordinary citizens at another table.
Soothing music flowed in the background.
During this brief moment of tranquility, the conversation from the table of artisan students drifted over.
“…Have you heard? Things haven’t been very peaceful at the Holy Temple lately.”
“You heard it too?” another student joined in, their tone curious and tinged with fear.
“My uncle does stone maintenance on the temple’s perimeter. He said the guard patrols have clearly been ramped up. Apparently, you can sometimes hear a strange… humming coming from inside at night?”
“A humming? Could the Holy Sword be waking up? Didn’t the Crown Prince demonstrate a Holy Sword Replica today?”
“Who knows… But the Holy Sword has been dormant for hundreds of years; it won’t wake up that easily. I did hear from another friend who helps out at the library, though. He saw records of some sealed ancient books being accessed. Apparently, it had something to do with words like ‘Heart Core’ and ‘Substitution’…”
“Shh! Keep it down! This isn’t something we should be guessing about.”
The voices dropped again, turning into blurred whispers.
Freya’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around her teacup.
‘An anomaly at the Holy Temple? A strange humming? Ancient records… “Heart Core” and “Substitution”?’
These fragments of information were like scattered beads, beginning to link together in her mind with what she had seen that morning—the light from Ross’s Holy Sword Replica, Irina’s greedy and obsessed gaze, Lyra’s instinctive hostility, and the Mana Heart Crystal that had been stripped from her in her past life.
‘Could it be… that the “awakening” or “completion” of the Holy Sword requires a specific “Heart Core” or “Substitution”?’
‘And my Mana Heart Crystal just happened to meet those conditions?’
‘Is that why Ross and Irina…’
The thought sent a chill through her heart.
If this were true, then what she faced wasn’t just a personal grudge, but a massive conspiracy involving the Empire’s highest secrets and ancient rituals.
But something wasn’t right.
In her previous life, Ross had already obtained the Holy Sword, and he was the one who resonated with it.
Lyra seemed to have overheard bits and pieces as well.
Her chewing slowed, and a sharp glint flashed in her red eyes, though she quickly buried her face back in her food.
Her ears, however, were visibly perked up.
Freya forced herself to stay calm.
There was still too little information to jump to conclusions.
She needed more evidence, access to those sealed ancient books, and a way to understand the true situation within the Holy Temple.
Just then, the restaurant door pushed open, the wind chime ringing clearly.
Two girls wearing junior uniforms from the Royal Academy walked in, looking slightly exhausted.
They found an empty table, ordered simple meals, and immediately began chatting in low, gossipy tones filled with complaints.
“I’m exhausted… I ran my legs off just setting up the venue this morning.”
“Tell me about it. Still, I guess it was worth it to see His Highness’s demonstration.”
“Sigh, the Crown Prince is so handsome… And he seems to be taking good care of that new Special Admission Student, doesn’t he?”
“You mean Irina Ewell? Yeah, she looks all frail and weak, but she certainly knows how to handle things. I saw her several times this morning “happening” to hand His Highness things right when he needed them. He even smiled at her.”
“Hmph, who knows if it’s all an act. I heard her family background is very average. Who knows what methods she used to be admitted as a Special Admission Student… Besides, didn’t you notice? The way she looks at His Highness—tsk, tsk. She practically wants to glue herself to him.”
“Shh! Don’t say that so loudly, someone might hear…”
The two girls quickly shifted their topic to other trivial matters.
Freya lowered her gaze, hiding the coldness in her eyes.
It seemed Irina’s actions and intentions had not gone unnoticed within the Royal Academy.
It was just that most people either didn’t care or were too afraid to speak up.
Lyra finally finished her last rib.
She leaned back against the chair with a satisfied sigh, rubbing her belly.
“I’m full…”
She looked at Freya and, seeing that she seemed lost in thought, asked softly, “Boss, are there more matches this afternoon? Do we have to go back and watch?”
Freya snapped back to reality and shook her head.
“The afternoon consists of the junior group support matches and alchemy displays. They aren’t very significant.” She paused.
“We’re going back to the mansion. I need to organize some things.”
“Okay!” Lyra replied immediately.
She was clearly happy to avoid spending more time watching “performances” among those hypocritical crowds.
After paying the bill and leaving the restaurant, the warm afternoon sun fell upon them.
The streets were bustling with students in groups of two or three, discussing the morning matches.
The air was thick with the scent of youth.
Freya and Lyra walked side by side toward the Dale Mansion, appearing somewhat out of place amidst the surrounding excitement.
“Boss—” Lyra spoke suddenly, her tone less playful and more serious than usual.
“That Holy Sword Replica… and what those students said. Did you think of something?”
Freya glanced at her.
Lyra’s sharpness occasionally exceeded her expectations.
“I have some suspicions, but they need to be confirmed.” Freya didn’t hide it.
“Lyra, you seem to have a special sensitivity toward the Holy Sword, or rather, that ‘holy’ power of light?”
Lyra was silent for a moment, kicking a small stone by her feet.
“I wouldn’t call it a special sensitivity… I just don’t like it. That light makes people… or rather, makes certain existences feel very uncomfortable.”
Her words were somewhat vague, but Freya could sense the deeper meaning.
Certain existences? Was she referring to herself, or the… trait she represented?
Freya didn’t push for answers.
Everyone had their secrets, especially someone with an unknown background like Lyra.
As long as their current goals aligned, some secrets could remain kept for now.
“We need to find out more about the Holy Sword, the Holy Temple, and any ancient contracts or rituals,” Freya said quietly.
“The ancient archives at the Central Academy might have clues. But access there requires high clearance.”
“Do you want me to ‘borrow’ some out for you?” Lyra’s eyes lit up, looking eager to try.
“…No need for that yet,” Freya said, feeling a bit helpless.
“We’ll try official channels first. I recall that with my current academic rank and research projects, I can apply for a limited research permit.”
Though the process might be tedious and could attract attention, it was better than letting Lyra take risks and alerting their enemies.
“Oh…” Lyra sounded a bit disappointed, but she quickly cheered up again.
“Well, Boss, if there’s anything I can do, just say the word!”
Freya stopped and looked at Lyra’s red eyes, which were filled with sincerity and anticipation.
The afternoon sun gilded the girl’s white hair, and her clear eyes reflected only Freya’s silhouette.
This “trouble” she had brought back from the Black Market, this girl shrouded in mystery, had become the only “force” she could explicitly command on this lonely road of vengeance.
She even… faintly radiated a clumsy sort of concern.
“There is,” Freya’s voice softened slightly without her realizing it.
“When we get back, record every detail you observed this morning. Especially anything regarding Ross, Irina, or anyone who might have had secret contact with her. Don’t leave out anything you found unusual.”
“No problem! Leave it to me!”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.