‘Maybe Ross, or the power behind him, already knew that the strength of the Holy Sword — or its replica — required some kind of “tuning” or “completion,” and my Mana Heart Crystal was exactly one of the “keys” they were looking for?’
“Found it!”
Freya had made a discovery of her own within a set of secret family records.
It was a transcript of a memoir left by her great-grandfather regarding a conversation with a retired scholar from the Holy Temple.
It contained a cryptic mention.
“…The true meaning of the Holy Sword cannot be carried by light alone. The ancient God of War bore divine punishment with a mortal body; that power is violent and requires a ‘vessel’ to harmonize it. If later generations insist on the purity of the Holy Light, it may backfire. They must find a ‘Chaos Core’ to stabilize it…”
Chaos Core!
This description was remarkably similar to the mixed, stable, and highly compressed energy characteristics of her Mana Heart Crystal!
All the fragments of clues were slowly piecing together into a spine-chilling picture.
The power of the Holy Sword (or its replica) had a flaw or a bottleneck that required a special “energy core” — a Chaos Core or a high-purity mixed mana source — to tune or activate it.
As the wielder (or prospective wielder) of the Holy Sword, Ross was likely facing this predicament.
The Holy Temple and the Imperial Family — or at least certain factions within them — had been secretly searching for a suitable “vessel.”
Her Mana Heart Crystal was one of those targets.
And Irina was perhaps another chosen “affinity holder,” or even a planned… replacement or assistant?
Irina’s appearance, her disguise, her approach toward Ross, her obsession with the Holy Sword, and her greed for the Mana Heart Crystal… everything finally made sense.
This was a conspiracy targeting her and her innate talent, meticulously planned for several years, perhaps even longer!
Freya closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
When she opened them again, only cold determination and a burning fire remained.
‘Perhaps my past self thought too simply.’
‘Or perhaps, from the very beginning, Ross approached me with the intent to kill.’
But this time, she would not let these people have their way.
“Lyra.”
Her voice was calm, yet it carried the sharp ring of striking metal.
“I’m here, Boss!”
Lyra immediately looked up.
Seeing the cold, sharp light in Freya’s eyes that she had never seen before, her expression turned solemn as well.
“Our enemies are larger than I imagined, and their goals are far more sinister,” Freya said slowly.
“From now on, you need to learn more than just etiquette and dancing.”
Lyra’s red eyes widened slightly, and then a trace of wild, excited light ignited in the depths of her gaze.
“I understand, Boss. What do I need me to do?”
“First, thoroughly master the personnel files I gave you regarding the Academy, the Imperial Family, and the Holy Temple. Secondly — “
Freya stood up and walked to the window, gazing at the last trace of twilight on the horizon.
“I want you to use all your skills. Without raising any alarms, investigate the detailed inside story of the ‘Resonance Anomaly’ event at the Holy Temple from three years ago. Also, find any information related to the registration of ‘Special Mana Constitution Holders’ or abnormal results from the ‘Stigma Trial,’ no matter how trivial.”
“Understood!”
Lyra stood up as well, cracking her wrists with an expression that was a mix of murderous intent and eager anticipation.
“I’ll dig three feet into the ground to find those rat holes.”
“Be careful.” Freya turned to look at her.
“Our opponents are very alert. Any hint of alerting the enemy could put us on the defensive, or even in danger.”
“Don’t worry, Boss.” Lyra grinned, a smile filled with the confidence of the shadows.
“I’m a professional ‘rat.’ I’m best at finding things right under the noses of those guys who claim to be so righteous.”
Night fell, and soft magic lamps were lit within the library.
The shadows of the two girls stretched across the bookshelves covering the walls, as if merging with those ancient secrets.
Just then, Aru the butler knocked gently on the door, his voice carrying a hint of imperceptible gravity.
“My Lady, Master Calanso requests that you and Miss Lyra come to the study. Someone from Earl Elwin’s Mansion has arrived again. This time, it is an urgent, handwritten letter from the Earl himself.”
The heavy wooden door of the study closed behind them, sealing off the faint light and air of the hallway.
Grandfather Calanso stood behind the massive mahogany desk, his back to them as he gazed at the deep night outside.
His figure looked exceptionally solemn under the flickering light of the fireplace.
On the desk lay an opened letter sealed with the wax of House Elwin, and beside it was a hastily written note with wet ink.
Hearing them enter, Calanso turned around.
His silvery-white brows were knit tightly, and his face bore a heavy expression of anger and worry that Freya rarely saw.
“Freya, Lyra.” His voice was low as he motioned for them to sit.
“Hezdi sent another letter. This time, it isn’t just a regular reminder or a scolding.”
He pushed the note on the desk toward Freya.
“Read the contents of the letter yourself. This note was given to Aru separately by the messenger. it’s from your father’s most trusted personal servant… He used a secret code agreed upon by him and your mother years ago.”
Freya’s heart skipped a beat.
Her mother had died young, and the taciturn old servant John was one of the few seniors who had followed her mother when she married into the Elwin family. He was one of the few people her mother could trust.
For him to use her mother’s secret code meant that the situation had become so dire that even those close to her father felt uneasy and had to risk warning her.
She first picked up the formal letter.
Hezdi’s handwriting was as rigid as ever, but the tone between the lines was no longer simple anger; it was a frantic, unquestionable command.
“Freya, return immediately upon receiving this letter. His Majesty summoned me after the morning assembly today, mentioning your recent habit of ‘living in seclusion’ and ‘neglecting your studies and social obligations.’ He also inquired whether your ‘old illness’ had relapsed. His Highness was also present. He spoke of his concern for you and mentioned that the Royal Academy intends to host an ‘Academic Exchange Banquet.’ Top students and ‘their capable assistants’ are invited to foster communication among the younger generation. He expects you to attend. This is no ordinary invitation; it concerns our family’s reputation and your personal future. I expect to see you at the Earl’s mansion within three days to prepare for the banquet. Do not delay any further, and do not make things difficult for your grandfather. Father.”
The content of the letter seemed like a routine summons and social command, but combined with keywords like “His Majesty’s summons,” “the Crown Prince was present,” “mention of an old illness,” and “specially invited assistants,” as well as that forceful three-day deadline, the pressure and underlying meaning were self-evident.
The Imperial Family — or rather, Crown Prince Ross — was exerting more direct and public pressure on her through her father.
The so-called “Academic Exchange Banquet” was likely another carefully arranged test and attempt to coerce her.
It might even be designed to place her and Lyra under closer observation and control.
Freya put down the letter, her fingertips cold.
She picked up the note.
The handwriting on the note was trembling and scrawled, clearly written in a hurry.
“Lady Freya, please be extremely careful. Master has been hosting secret guests in his study until late at night, looking very grim. Some guests appear to be related to the Holy Temple. Before Master was summoned to the palace this morning, he stood alone before the late Madam’s portrait for a long time, sighing repeatedly. This old servant is powerless, so I can only offer this warning. John.”
The Holy Temple?
Secret guests?
Freya’s heart sank.
Secret guests related to the Holy Temple were appearing in her father’s study?
This meant that House Elwin — or perhaps her father himself — might be more deeply involved in the schemes regarding the Holy Sword!
Her mother… her father’s sigh before her mother’s portrait. Was it guilt?
Was it a struggle?
Or was it… a final farewell after making a decision?
“Grandfather…” Freya looked up at Calanso, her voice a bit dry.
“What do you think?”
Calanso walked to the fireplace and used the tongs to poke at the burning wood, sending sparks flying.
“I’m afraid Hezdi is dealing with more than just pressure from the Imperial Family this time,” he said slowly, his gaze sharp.
“Secret guests from the Temple… this is no longer a matter of a simple family marriage or political games. That old fellow John isn’t someone who speaks without cause. Risking a message like this means the atmosphere around Hezdi is already extremely tense. It’s even possible… that your father has been pushed or coerced by some force into making a choice we aren’t yet aware of.”
“Pushed or coerced?” Lyra couldn’t help but interject, a cold light flashing in her red eyes.
“Is it for that Holy Sword, and for the Boss’s… that crystal?”
Although she wasn’t clear on every detail, combined with the discoveries from the afternoon, she had keenly grasped the key point.
“It is very likely.” Calanso looked at Freya, his eyes filled with distress and gravity.
“Freya, have you discovered something in your recent investigations regarding the Holy Sword?”
Freya took a deep breath.
She gave her grandfather a brief but clear account of what she and Lyra had found in the library, including the clues about the “Chaos Core,” the “flaw in the Holy Sword,” the “Stigma Trial,” and the abnormal event at the Holy Temple three years ago.
She didn’t mention her rebirth, only presenting them as possibilities deduced from ancient texts and recent observations.
As Calanso listened, his face grew darker and darker.
By the end, he was practically livid.
He slammed his palm down on the desk, making the teacups rattle.
“Unacceptable! How dare they — !”
His chest heaved violently; he was clearly enraged.
“To plot against my granddaughter! What Holy Sword, what Imperial Family! It’s simply…”
“Grandfather, stay calm.”
Freya was actually calmer than Calanso.
Having moved past the initial shock and chill, she was now filled with the cold resolve of facing reality.
“Anger won’t solve the problem. The situation is much clearer now. Ross, or the power behind him, needs my Mana Heart Crystal to complete some kind of ritual or modification related to the Holy Sword. Irina might be part of the plan, perhaps as a backup or a collaborator. And my father… it’s very likely that due to family interests, Imperial pressure, or being persuaded by the Holy Temple under some pretext, he has leaned toward cooperating. He might even be one of the people pushing this forward without knowing the full story.”
“Cooperating? He dares!” A cold light radiated from Calanso’s eyes.
“As long as I, Calanso, have a breath left in me, no one will touch my Little Star!”
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