Chapter 124: Asleep?

The wind swept across the training ground, picking up the remaining ice shards on the ground, shimmering with fragmented light under the sun.

Those ice blossoms were still falling, like a snow that would never stop.

The moment Freya collapsed, Lyra felt the entire world go silent.

Not truly silent.

The footsteps of the two underclassmen running to call for help were still there, the faint noise from beyond the training ground was still there, the rustling of phoenix tree leaves in the wind was still there.

But in Lyra’s ears, only her own heartbeat remained—thump, thump, heavy as if someone was hammering her chest.

She knelt on the ground, cradling Freya’s upper body in her arms, afraid to move, afraid to let go, even afraid to breathe.

Freya’s face rested in the hollow of her shoulder, ice-cold, like a piece of jade soaked through by winter.

“Boss, wake up.”

Her voice was trembling.

“Please wake up…”

Freya didn’t respond.

Her eyelashes drooped, her lips pressed together, her face as pale as the ice blossoms she used to conjure in her hands.

Lyra buried her face in Freya’s cool, light-purple hair, tears falling silently.

The instructor was the first to arrive.

A tall, middle-aged man in a dark blue uniform, he jogged over, crouched down, and reached out to check Freya’s neck.

His brow furrowed.

“Pulse is very weak. What happened?”

“I don’t know…”

Lyra looked up, her eyes red.

“She was training just now, fine one moment, then suddenly collapsed.”

The instructor didn’t ask further. He bent down, lifted Freya out of Lyra’s arms, and carried her horizontally.

“To the infirmary.”

He strode away.

Lyra scrambled up, staggering after him, her legs trembling as she ran—almost falling after a few steps.

The infirmary was on the east side of the training ground, a separate two-story building.

By the time the instructor laid Freya on a bed on the first floor, the infirmary’s physician had already arrived.

She was a female doctor in her forties, with quick motions and a serious expression.

As she examined Freya, she asked, “How long has she been unconscious?”

“Less than five minutes,” the instructor replied.

Physician Lin flipped open Freya’s eyelids to check her pupils, then swept a Mana detection device over her entire body.

The device emitted a faint hum, and a string of data jumped onto the screen.

The physician stared at the data, her frown deepening.

“How is it?”

Lyra stood by the bed, her voice as rough as sandpaper.

Physician Lin didn’t answer. She ran the test again. The data was the same.

“No abnormalities.”

Her voice carried a hint of confusion.

“Mana is stable, Heart Meridian is normal, vital signs are steady. She… just looks like she’s asleep.”

“Asleep?”

Lyra’s voice rose.

“She just passed out! Dropped down completely! How can she just be asleep?”

The physician looked at her, opened her mouth as if to say something, then swallowed it back.

She turned around and ran the test again.

The data still showed no anomalies.

“Maybe because her previous injuries haven’t fully healed yet. Her body is too weak.”

She chose her words carefully.

“Let’s observe for now. If she doesn’t wake up, we’ll think of something else.”

Lyra opened her mouth to argue, but found she didn’t know what to say.

She looked down at Freya’s calm face.

Her breathing was steady. Although her complexion was pale, it wasn’t as frightening as before.

Her eyelashes occasionally fluttered, as if she were dreaming.

She really did look like she was asleep.

But—Lyra knew she wasn’t.

She had seen Freya fall with her own eyes, seen her drop without even having time to cry out.

If that wasn’t sleep, what was it?

She didn’t know.

News spread quickly.

Anke was the first to arrive, running in out of breath, her face covered in sweat.

“What happened to Freya? I heard she passed out!”

She rushed to the bedside, saw Freya lying there quietly, her face pale as paper, and her eyes instantly turned red.

“How could this happen? Wasn’t she almost better?”

“I don’t know.”

Lyra’s voice was muffled.

“The doctor said she’s just asleep.”

“Asleep?”

Anke’s voice also rose.

“If she’s asleep, would she collapse? Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

Lyra lowered her head. “That’s what the doctor said.”

Anke looked at her, then at Freya lying on the bed. Her lips moved, but she didn’t ask further.

She pulled a chair over, sat down beside the bed, and took Freya’s hand.

That hand was cool, the same as always.

Anke pressed it against her own cheek, and tears fell.

“Freya, wake up soon. Don’t scare me.”

Sophie was the second to arrive.

She had been doing practical exercises on the training ground and, upon hearing the news, didn’t even have time to put on a jacket. She came running in just her thin training clothes.

When she pushed open the infirmary door, her chest was heaving violently, her forehead covered in sweat.

“Where’s Freya?”

Her voice was so loud the whole corridor trembled.

“Shh—” Anke made a hushing gesture.

“She hasn’t woken up yet.”

Sophie strode over, looked down at Freya’s calm face.

Her eyes turned red, her lips trembling.

She reached out, wanting to touch Freya’s face. Her hand hovered in midair for a long time, then she pulled it back.

“What did the doctor say?”

“They said she’s just asleep,” Lyra answered.

“Bullshit.”

Sophie’s voice was low, hoarse.

“If she could fall asleep, she wouldn’t have collapsed.”

No one argued.

Serar came in the evening.

When he entered, Lyra, Anke, and Sophie were all guarding the bedside.

Seeing his ice-blue hair, Lyra’s brow furrowed.

“What are you doing here?”

Serar wasn’t his usual frivolous self. His expression was heavy, his deep blue eyes filled with exhaustion and worry.

He walked to the bedside, reached out, and pressed his palm against Freya’s forehead.

Mana flowed from his palm, slowly circulating through Freya’s body.

Lyra watched his movements without stopping him.

Although she didn’t like him, he was a top student of Winter Order, and his Magic Perception was far stronger than the academy’s physician.

Maybe he could find something.

Serar’s Mana probed inside Freya for a long time—so long that Lyra’s patience was worn down bit by bit.

Then he withdrew his hand, his face even worse than when he arrived.

“How is it?” Lyra asked.

Serar was silent for a few seconds.

“No abnormalities.”

“You can’t find anything either?”

Sophie’s voice rose.

Serar shook his head.

“Her body is completely normal. Mana stable, Heart Meridian normal, no signs of injury or overexertion.”

He paused.

“But her consciousness hasn’t woken up. It’s like she’s trapped by something.”

The room fell silent.

Anke lowered her head, tears falling again.

Sophie clenched her fists.

Lyra sat by the bed, holding Freya’s hand, saying nothing.

“Will she wake up?” Lyra’s voice was very soft.

Serar was silent for a long time.

“She will.”

“She’s not the kind of person who gives up easily.”

That night, Lyra didn’t return to the dormitory.

She pulled a chair over, sat beside Freya’s bed, and held her hand.

Anke and Sophie were persuaded to go back, and Serar left too.

Only the two of them remained in the infirmary.

Moonlight spilled in through the window, falling onto Freya’s pale face, coating her silhouette in a silvery-white glow.

Lyra watched her for a long time—so long that her eyes ached, so long that her vision blurred.

“Boss,” she whispered.

“Wake up soon. If you don’t wake up, I can’t sleep.”

Freya didn’t answer.

Lyra pressed Freya’s hand against her own cheek, feeling that faint coolness.

“You promised me. You said you wouldn’t collapse again. You lied.”

Her voice was a little hoarse.

“But I don’t blame you. As long as you wake up, I won’t blame you.”

She closed her eyes.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, dripping onto the back of Freya’s hand.

Freya woke up the next evening.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, dyeing the entire room a warm orange-red.

Lyra was lying by the bed, holding Freya’s hand, fast asleep. Her silver-white hair spilled over her arm, her breathing steady and light.

Freya stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, her consciousness returning bit by bit.

Training ground, ice blossoms, a sharp pain, and then—

Nothing.

She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, nor where this was.

The air was filled with the smell of medicinal herbs mixed with disinfectant.

The infirmary.

She turned her head and saw Lyra lying beside her bed, with deep dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips, and an overall haggard look.

She watched for a long time, then reached out and gently stroked Lyra’s hair.

Lyra jerked her head up. Those red eyes were bloodshot, and the bloodshot were quickly overwhelmed by tears.

“Boss! You’re awake!”

Her voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

“You’re finally awake!”

“How long was I out?”

“One day.”

Lyra’s tears fell.

“You were out for a day. I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.”

Freya looked at her, at that worn, tear-streaked face.

“What did the doctor say?”

“They said you were asleep.”

Lyra’s voice was choked with sobs.

“They couldn’t find anything wrong with you.

Serar couldn’t find anything either. Everyone said you were just sleeping.

But I know that’s not true.

You collapsed. You dropped down completely. That’s not sleeping.”

Freya was silent.

She remembered that Black Crystal Shard.

It was still deep in her Heart Meridian, entangled with the Mana Heart Crystal her mother left behind.

She didn’t know if it had caused her collapse, nor what else it might bring.

But she knew that if she told Lyra, Lyra would worry even more.

“Maybe I really am too tired,” she said softly.

“I’ve been sleeping too much these past few days, leaving me even more exhausted.”

Lyra looked at her, those red eyes full of disbelief, but she didn’t press.

She just lowered her head and buried her face in Freya’s palm.

“Boss, don’t scare me anymore. I’m really scared.”

Freya looked at her, at that fluffy white head, at her slightly trembling shoulders.

“I won’t,” she said quietly.

Lyra lifted her head, her eyes red.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Lyra watched her for a long time, then grinned.

That little wolf fang glittered in the sunset.

“Then I believe you.”

She wiped her tears and stood up.

“I’ll go find you something to eat. You haven’t eaten all day, you must be hungry.”

She ran out.

Her footsteps gradually faded away.

Freya lay alone in bed, gazing out the window at that sky dyed red by the setting sun.