And the two statues closest to the present were undoubtedly the ones right before them.
Saint Eustacia’s statue had perfectly replicated her cool, aloof features. Her gaze toward the distance conveyed compassion and resolve, identical to her real self.
As for the one beside it… Seraphina wondered if she was seeing things.
The base clearly read “Saint Dekalorin,” yet the woman depicted in the statue had a stern face, sharp eyes, and a straight-backed posture that radiated the kind of killing aura forged only in the fires of war.
She looked nothing like the Dekalorin Seraphina knew—the one who always wore a slightly roguish smile and whose thoughts were impossible to read.
*Was this statue carved from how she looked during battle?* Seraphina wondered. She really couldn’t connect the person standing in front of her with the imposing Saintess statue.
As if sensing Seraphina’s inner turmoil, Dekalorin stopped in front of her own statue and looked it up and down.
“Mmm… I really was quite dashing back then!”
“Pfft, nice act,” Movira muttered from behind her. She glanced at the statue, then at Dekalorin herself, a mocking glint in her eyes. “Act? Movira, why don’t you recall who was the only Saintess in history called a berserker instead of an archmage?”
Dekalorin’s smile said everything. The “berserker” Saintess she spoke of was none other than herself.
A berserker? Seraphina turned to look at the statues again. All of them held staves—even Saint Eustacia’s. Only Saint Dekalorin’s statue featured a massive, wide-bladed greatsword thrust into the “ground” beside her.
Movira, however, had no interest in continuing the pointless verbal spar. Those old stories weren’t worth bringing up.
She turned first and led Seraphina into the conference hall.
A fair number of people had already gathered inside—mostly student representatives chosen by the various academies.
They had been chatting softly in small groups, but the moment they saw Dekalorin and Saint Eustacia enter, they all rose and offered respectful greetings.
Their gazes then shifted to Seraphina beside them, filled with obvious awe and curiosity. The “new professor” personally escorted by Dekalorin had already drawn widespread attention.
Anyone who tried to look up information on Seraphina would find only two words: “Classified.”
That alone had wrapped her in a thick veil of mystery in the students’ eyes.
As for Movira, who had suddenly appeared recently and stayed glued to Seraphina’s side—seemingly having taken Dekalorin’s place—the students simply assumed she was some kind of assistant. Though her bearing was equally impressive, most attention still centered on the main figure.
The rehearsal itself was not complicated. It mainly involved familiarizing themselves with positions and the overall flow.
Seraphina basically only needed to follow the staff’s guidance, walk through a few steps, and simulate the scene for the day after tomorrow. Most of the time she simply sat and watched everyone else bustle about. After all, this once-a-year grand assembly was far more than just handing out an appointment letter; there were many other items on the agenda that didn’t involve her.
Movira stayed seated beside her the entire time, occasionally serving as a living pillow.
Even so, by the time the rehearsal ended and they returned to the dormitory, night had already fallen outside like spilled ink. Seraphina felt as if she had fought a battle. Every bone in her body ached with exhaustion.
Movira went to the cafeteria to fetch dinner. The two of them ate as usual.
“Get some rest early tonight,” Movira said softly, seeing how tired Seraphina looked. She began tidying the table.
“Mm…” Seraphina answered weakly. She dragged her feet to the bed, sat on the edge, then flopped backward onto the soft covers.
“This morning… we went to the library and used our brains a bit. This afternoon’s rehearsal… was just walking a few steps… That was it.” Staring at the ceiling, she counted on her fingers what she had done today, frowning as she muttered, “The intensity wasn’t even that high. I barely moved most of the time, so why do I feel more tired than after practicing magic for an hour or two?”
A sudden chill swept over her. She shivered, quickly burrowed under the blankets, and pulled them tightly around herself.
“Hiss… It’s so cold!”
By then Movira had finished cleaning up and walked back over. She saw Seraphina still staring at her with wide, expectant eyes in the dim light, showing no sign of wanting to sleep.
“Aren’t you really tired? Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” Movira sat on the edge of the bed and asked.
Seraphina scooted inward a little. Her voice came out soft and slightly coquettish. “I’m waiting for Sister to sleep with me… Otherwise I can’t fall asleep.”
Their eyes met. Some unspoken understanding passed between them, and the next second they spoke in unison:
“Take off your coat!”
The words left their mouths and both of them froze.
Seraphina’s cheeks instantly flushed pink. She quickly looked away, shrinking deeper into the blankets until only her eyes peeked out.
Movira paused as well, then a hint of laughter flashed through her eyes. She coughed lightly. “Ahem.” While removing her outer robe, she explained, “This time I definitely won’t forget. After all… who sleeps wearing a coat?”
She draped the removed robe over the back of a nearby chair. “I only forgot last time because it wasn’t proper bedtime.”
Seraphina watched her movements and gave a soft “Mm.”
Once Movira lay down, Seraphina skillfully crawled into her arms and found a comfortable spot.
Her small, icy feet accidentally brushed against Movira’s calf, making the other woman inhale sharply. Yet Movira didn’t pull away. Instead she tightened her arms, holding Seraphina even closer.
“So cold…” Seraphina mumbled against her chest, though her voice quickly grew drowsy. “But… Sister’s arms are really warm…”
Seraphina’s breathing gradually evened out as she fell into a deep sleep. Even so, her small hand still clutched the corner of Movira’s nightgown.
In her dream, however, everything was different—an entirely frozen scene.
She seemed to have returned to that boundless snowfield. The sky was gray and oppressively heavy, making it hard to breathe. Large snowflakes mixed with stinging ice pellets were whipped along by a biting gale, slicing across her cheeks like knives.
Cold… It was so cold…
In the dream she curled into a tight ball. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, clacking together.
Every step took enormous effort. The snow underfoot was even deeper than she remembered, reaching all the way to her knees.
Mmm… Is anyone there… Please… save me…