That gaze held no hostility, no pity—only a faint recognition of a kindred spirit.
You’ve been lost. I’ve been lost too. The important thing is, we both found our way back.
The door closed behind them. Ross sat on the floor, staring at the shut door for a long time.
Then he slowly got up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.
The night breeze rushed in, carrying the chill of deep autumn, drying the tear tracks on his face.
He looked at the horizon, at the moon hidden behind a layer of clouds.
“Freya.”
He whispered the name. Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the emptiness in those blue eyes had vanished.
Though they were still tired, still rimmed with red, they were his eyes once more.
He turned, looked at the scorched book on the floor, walked over, and picked it up.
The Holy Sword emblem on the cover had been burned beyond recognition, leaving only blackened marks.
He held the book, walked to the desk, pulled open a drawer, and placed it inside. Then he shut the drawer. He would never open it again.
In the hallway, Freya and Lyra walked side by side.
Lyra kept glancing down at her reddened hand, then stealing a look at Freya’s profile.
“Boss.”
“Mm.”
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”
Freya stopped and looked at her.
“Your hand needs medicine when we get back.”
Lyra was taken aback for a moment, then broke into a grin.
“Okay! Boss, you’ll put the medicine on me!”
Freya didn’t reply and continued walking.
Lyra bounced along behind her, holding up her injured hand like a medal.
Back at the dormitory, Freya got out the first aid kit and sat on the edge of the bed.
Lyra obediently crouched in front of her, extending her hand, palm up.
Freya lowered her head, dipped a cotton swab in ointment, and gently applied it to the burns.
The ointment was cool, and Lyra couldn’t help but flinch.
“Does it hurt?”
“No! It’s just cold!”
Freya kept her head down and continued applying the medicine.
Lyra watched her drooping eyelashes, her focused profile, the hand holding her wrist.
A wave of indescribable emotion surged in Lyra’s heart—not happiness, not gratitude, but something deeper, fuller, on the verge of overflowing.
“Boss.”
“Mm.”
“That Blondie won’t be tricked again, will he?”
Freya’s movements paused.
“I don’t know. But at least now he knows he was tricked.”
Lyra nodded.
“That’s good.”
She paused.
“Boss, you once said everyone makes mistakes. But as long as they realize it, there’s still hope.”
Freya looked up at her.
Lyra grinned, revealing her little wolf fang.
“I think you’re right.”
Freya didn’t answer. She just lowered her head and continued applying the medicine.
But Lyra saw the corner of her mouth lift slightly. Faint, but definitely a smile.
Outside the window, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, bathing the entire dormitory in silver light.
In the distance, toward the Imperial Palace, a single light was still on. Ross sat by the window, holding a small wooden carved cat in his hands.
It was a gift Freya had given him many years ago. He had kept it all along, hidden in the deepest part of a drawer.
Tonight, he took it out. He stared at the wooden cat for a long time.
“I’m sorry.”
He said it softly.
He didn’t know if he was speaking to the wooden cat or to the little girl who used to chase after him calling “Brother Ross” all those years ago.
Moonlight fell on him, stretching his shadow long and thin.
The day Sophie returned, it was bright and sunny.
She hadn’t even entered the school gate when her voice arrived first.
“Freya—!!!”
The shout was so vigorous that it startled a flock of sparrows into flight from the phoenix tree.
Freya stood at the dormitory building, too slow to react before she was enveloped in a huge, soft embrace that smelled of travel.
“I missed you so much!!!”
Sophie hugged Freya tightly, resting her chin on top of Freya’s head and rubbing vigorously.
Freya’s face was buried in the legendary “rolling waves” of Sophie’s chest, nearly suffocating. She struggled but couldn’t break free.
“Sophie… let go…”
“No way! It’s been so long since I saw you! The mission was exhausting! The food was terrible! And there was no one to talk to!”
The more Sophie complained, the tighter her arms became.
Lyra stood nearby, watching her boss struggle for survival in that softness, a complex emotion flickering in her red eyes.
She remembered the day she’d asked Freya “how to get a bigger chest,” then glanced down at her own flat chest and silently turned away.
“Sophie.”
Freya finally broke free from the embrace, her light purple hair a mess and the tips of her ears flushed red.
“Enough.”
Sophie chuckled, then noticed Lyra. She looked the white-haired girl up and down, eyes lighting up. “Little Wolf Cub, long time no see.”
Lyra frowned.
“I’m not a Little Wolf Cub.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m the boss’s—”
Lyra stopped. She thought about it but couldn’t find the right word.
Not a pet, not a friend, not family—yet all of those.
She gave up answering and simply moved closer to Freya, letting her actions speak for her.
Sophie watched, amused. “Still as interesting as ever.”
She turned, linked her arm with Freya’s, and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come on, come on. I have so much to tell you.”
Inside the dorm room, Sophie kicked off her boots as soon as she entered and unceremoniously claimed Freya’s chair.
She sat cross-legged, eating jerky that Lyra had swiped from the academy canteen while listening to Anke recount everything that had happened.
Anke narrated vividly, from Irina’s transfer to the Mutual Aid Society, the rumors, Kaer’s knife, Ross’s confinement, Irina’s Charm Magic, and finishing with Freya going to save Ross the previous night.
Sophie’s expression darkened with each word, and the jerky in her hand was crushed into crumbs.
“So,” she said, taking a deep breath, her chest heaving. “That pink-haired bitch has been bullying my Freya this whole time?”
Anke nodded cautiously. “Pretty much…”
“And that Crown Prince, claiming to like Freya while helping that bitch bully her?”
“…Yeah.”
Sophie shot to her feet. “I’m going to beat them up.”
“Sophie—” Freya reached out to stop her.
“Don’t try to stop me!” Sophie’s face was flushed with anger.
“That bitch dares to use Charm Magic? I’ll teach her a lesson with my fists! And that Crown Prince—did a dog eat his brain? Can’t tell right from wrong?”
“They’ve already been punished,” Freya said, her voice calm. “Ross is under confinement and nearly got brainwashed into a puppet. Lyra burned Irina’s Charm Magic book, and her Mana has been damaged.”
Sophie froze. She looked at Lyra, whose red eyes stared back innocently.
“You burned it?”
Lyra nodded. “With my hands. It stung a bit.”
Sophie was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. “Good! Well done!”
She walked over and slapped Lyra on the shoulder, nearly knocking her over. “You, Little Wolf Cub—not bad! You’ve got potential!”
Lyra rubbed her sore shoulder, frowning, but couldn’t help the lift of her lips.
Sophie turned, sat back down, and became serious.
“Freya, I brought you something.”
She pulled a palm-sized wooden box from her travel bag. The box was old, its edges worn white, but the runes carved on it were still clear.
She opened it to reveal a gray, unremarkable stone that looked like it could have been picked up by the roadside.
“A Raw Mana Awakening Stone,” Sophie said, taking it out and holding it in her palm.
“I found it in the Northern Mountains during this mission. It’s this big, high purity—once polished, it’ll be ready to use.”
Freya’s lashes fluttered.
A Mana Awakening Stone—an extremely rare mineral that could awaken Mana in those who had none, or greatly increase the Mana capacity of those who already had it.
A piece the size of a fist on the market was worth a fortune, and often unavailable at any price.
Sophie’s piece was the size of a baby’s fist.
“It’s too valuable,” Freya said, shaking her head. “I can’t accept it.”
“Who said it was for you?” Sophie rolled her eyes, then looked at Lyra. “It’s for her.”
Lyra was stunned. “For… me?”
“Don’t you have no Mana?” Sophie shoved the stone into Lyra’s hands.
“Use this, and you’ll awaken. Then you can learn Magic and protect Freya, instead of always using your fists.”
Lyra looked down at the gray stone in her hands.
It looked so ordinary, yet it was heavy, burning her palm.
She looked up at Freya.
“Boss…”
Freya was silent for a long time. Then she nodded softly. “Take it.”
Lyra’s eyes lit up instantly. She clutched the stone as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
“Thank you, Sophie!”
Sophie felt a surge of satisfaction at being called “Sister Sophie” and smiled even more brightly.
“You’re welcome! From now on, protect your boss well, and don’t let those bitches bully her!”
“Mm!” Lyra nodded emphatically, a small flame burning in her red eyes. “I will!”
Outside, the sunlight was perfect.
Freya watched Lyra grinning foolishly at the stone, the corner of her own mouth lifting slightly.
Sophie watched the two of them, a hint of relief in her eyes. Then she stood up and stretched.
“Alright, I’m going back to catch up on sleep. I’m exhausted.”
She walked to the door, then suddenly stopped, not turning around.
“Freya.”
“Mm.”
“Next time someone bullies you, don’t handle it alone.”
Her voice was soft.
“You still have us.”
The door closed behind her.
Freya sat there, staring at the shut door for a long time.
“Boss.”
Lyra’s voice came from beside her.
Freya turned.
Lyra was crouching at her feet, looking up with bright red eyes. “Once I have Mana, I’ll be able to protect you even better.”
Freya looked at her—at her earnest face, at the little wolf fang slightly exposed from excitement.