The carriage slowed down and pulled over to the right side of the road.
They gave way, and the following carriages didn’t hesitate to pass. Soon, Enya’s carriage found itself in the middle-to-back of the procession.
The carriages here belonged to the wealthier small families of the town.
Their vehicles weren’t luxurious or spacious; they were old-fashioned, with severe paint peeling, and loaded with all sorts of large and small bundles stuffed into every possible storage space.
Though Parit was full of doubts, he still followed the order. He looked around and suddenly saw a figure in grey robes walking slowly on the grassy roadside not far away.
From a distance, it just looked like another poor person fleeing.
Just as he was observing, the figure stopped, turned around, and looked toward the carriage. As the carriage slowly moved forward and drew alongside the person…
The carriage came to a stop exactly then. It was a perfect, flawless coincidence.
Parit got goosebumps. There were many strange things in this world, and on the carriage he was driving, there were already two terrifying women who weren’t human.
So, what was the true identity of this person who, at first glance, seemed just like a poor commoner?
While Parit hesitated, the poor man opened his dry lips and spoke respectfully to the old butler on the carriage.
“Hello, sir.”
“……”
“Hello, sir?”
The poor man widened his eyes, looking at the old butler on the carriage.
Parit was silent for a moment. Only when greeted again with the same words did he snap out of it. A chill ran down his spine, and he hurriedly replied to the poor man.
“Hello…”
“Sir, someone gave me a letter earlier. Here, take a look.”
The poor man grinned, then took out a dark blue envelope tucked inside his clothes and handed it to Parit with both hands.
Parit took it, his palms sweating profusely. He almost dropped the letter onto the muddy ground, but managed to catch it in time, preventing it from actually falling.
He glanced at the poor man, who had already turned and walked away. It seemed he was just an ordinary poor person after all.
A false alarm?
Parit’s cloudy eyes narrowed. He then turned to look at the carriage compartment.
Behind the driver’s seat was a small window.
Opening it allowed those inside to see outside.
Parit wanted to pass the letter through it, but his hands were trembling, making his movements slow. He spoke to those inside first.
“Respected lady, a letter for you.”
“Hmm.”
Enya responded indifferently. A moment later, the letter was pushed through. Wendy reached out to take it and then handed it to Enya.
The sealing wax bore no pattern, and the envelope had no other writing.
“Continue on our way.”
Enya first instructed Parit, then proceeded to open the letter in her hand.
Both maids, Wendy and Lucia, were very curious about the letter’s contents.
After all, Enya had just said there would be a letter, and then there was one—it was like her words made it happen, almost magical.
And given the bizarre events they had just experienced, the person who wrote this letter probably wasn’t entirely normal either.
However, as a letter specifically addressed to their mistress Enya, it was obviously not something the maids could peek at.
That would be an act of presumption, punishable in most noble households!
Lucia restrained her curiosity, lowering her head to look at the floor. Then, her gaze landed on Enya’s feet clad in black leather high-heeled boots. She inwardly marveled at how fashionable this foreign Ms. Ain was in her attire.
Slime products had only been introduced from the Zephyr Empire within the last year.
Those who could wear them were usually noblewomen who aimed to dazzle everyone at social events.
Wendy was curious too, but she was also timid, especially in front of Enya and when others were around. She became even more fearful, so now she sat perfectly still.
Enya didn’t mind the maids’ gazes at all. She casually opened the envelope and took out the paper inside.
Her pale golden eyes stared at it, pupils shifting slightly. It took her a minute to finish reading the letter’s contents. Then, her gaze fell on the two words at the very bottom.
As the end of a letter, it must be the sender’s signature. On this letter, it was a special alias.
[Audience]
Enya’s eyes narrowed slightly, staring at the words “Audience” for a long time. She ended with a cold snort and tossed the letter paper, along with the envelope, out the window. The moment they left her hand, they burst into flames, instantly turning to ashes.
Hah, audience…
Right, the ones served by an opera house, aren’t they the audience?
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Enya then lifted both her feet and placed them on Lucia’s and Wendy’s laps respectively.
“Massage my feet.”
Lucia was taken aback, her face full of astonishment. Faced with the foot suddenly resting on her leg, she was shocked and flustered, unsure what to do. She could only steal a glance at Wendy from the corner of her eye.
Wendy was just momentarily stunned, then immediately reached for the boot. But before she could touch it, Enya pulled her foot back.
Wendy looked confused. Seeing that Lucia still had a foot on her lap, she pouted and whispered to Enya very softly.
“Mistress, didn’t you want a foot massage?”
Enya ignored Wendy, turning instead to look at Lucia. With a playful expression, she teased the little black-haired maid.
“Weren’t you just staring at my feet earlier? Now they’re right in front of you.”
“Huh?!”
Lucia’s face immediately turned bright red.
Her hands trembled slightly, but she still reached out and touched the exquisitely crafted boot. Her breathing also became noticeably quicker.
Enya watched the current Lucia with the look of someone observing a fun toy, while also leaning lazily back against the seat.
The content of the letter was simple, mostly just greetings akin to small talk. The most important part took up very little space; it was heavily padded with filler, so she hadn’t read it carefully.
The core message was to inform Enya that a grand performance she had arranged would be coming soon, and she sincerely hoped Enya would watch it with her.
Furthermore, [Audience] expressed curiosity about whether the being within Enya’s body was the Destruction Monarch Pendragon or the original Silver-haired Sword Maiden.
To summarize, it was essentially a request for a date with Enya, a desire to enter her inner world. It sounded weird, didn’t it?
But that was exactly what [Audience] had written in that letter.
Red Pine City, outskirts of Crimson Academy.
In a clearing within a small forest, a young woman with shoulder-length light golden hair, dressed in warrior attire, looked around at her surroundings.
The forest was littered with signs of destruction, and none of the damage was of the same type. It was pockmarked with a great variety of craters and pits, many of which had people lying inside them.
“Excellent! Truly excellent!”
Tristan, the martial magic instructor hired from Moonview City, looked at the girl standing with her sword and stroked his bald head, laughing heartily.
“Progress this noticeable after just one night! Your talent is even better than I imagined. In comparison, aside from your sister, the rest are just a bunch of trash.”
“……”
Rosily said nothing, instead looking at Elqi hanging from a nearby tree, and at her teammates who had been defeated in various postures.
Her eyes darkened slightly. After a moment, she said to Tristan, “I lost.”
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
Tristan laughed boisterously. The beautiful woman beside him, the magic mentor Ms. Samuel, rolled her eyes at Tristan, inwardly cursing the big ape for his lack of tact.
Samuel let out a soft sigh, raised her hand, and used Invisible Hand to lift Elqi down from the tree.
She was about to place her on the ground, but Rosily suddenly jumped up and caught Elqi. Seeing this, Samuel dispelled the Invisible Hand.
As Rosily landed holding Elqi, Elqi gave a bitter smile and said to Rosily, “Sorry, I held you back.”
“You didn’t.”
Rosily smiled at her, even reaching out to pinch the girl’s nose, then changed her expression to a deliberately feigned look of anger.
“If you say that again, I’ll really get angry. And when I do, you won’t be able to talk me out of it. I swear on my mother.”
“……”
Shouldn’t that kind of oath be sworn to a god?
Elqi felt like laughing but couldn’t. She knew Rosily was trying to comfort her, but the fact was, she had held them back.
Even though she had always been seen as a top student, her practical combat experience was still too lacking. After all, since her birth, her family had been on an upward trajectory, living better with each passing day.
When would she ever need real combat?
Moreover, within the Ophield Family, attitudes toward her cultivation were indifferent.
No matter how good her results were, she only received sycophantic praise. The careless attitude was obvious and quite frustrating.
Over time, Elqi stopped caring about the family’s opinions, focusing more on the knowledge itself. This gradually built a kind of equilibrium within her.
Until Rosily appeared. When she started caring about Rosily’s opinion of her, started actively dressing better…
And in the team battle, becoming Rosily’s weak point dealt a massive blow to Elqi’s confidence. Add to that Tristan, who spoke without thinking…
Ms. Samuel walked over. Elqi quickly stood up from Rosily’s arms and onto the ground, straightening her clothes.
Ms. Samuel asked Elqi, “Girl, what was your name again?”
“Me?”
Elqi realized Samuel was looking at her. She actually felt a bit unaccustomed to it.
Usually, the gazes of these two instructors were either on Rosily, that little golden sun, or on the unfathomable Estelle.
They hardly paid any attention to how the others were doing.
Samuel looked at the nervous Elqi with a faint smile.
“Yes, child, I’m asking you.”
“My name is Elqi.”
Elqi answered simply.
Samuel seemed slightly surprised. After all, children from noble or prominent families loved to announce their family names.
She didn’t pursue that topic, instead saying gently and elegantly, “Little Elqi, magic isn’t about rigid techniques. You need to flexibly use your imagination. Don’t be limited by magic itself. Magic isn’t just a set of moves.”
“Imagination…”
Elqi was still puzzled. She fell into thought.
Samuel didn’t interrupt her contemplation and even stopped Rosily from offering her own interpretation. Enlightenment was better achieved on one’s own.
Rosily pouted but didn’t force her explanation of what that “imagination” in combat meant onto Elqi.
Someone who only spams skills is called a turret.
A Magic User’s combat is absolutely not about mindlessly throwing various energy bolts based on past habits.
It’s about exhausting all calculations to win through surprise and ingenuity.
It was already afternoon.
As class time ended, Tristan announced something special to everyone: in ten days, they would enter the Northern Mountains for practical combat training.
That would be their final exercise.
Tristan scanned the group, his face turning serious as he spoke gravely.
“There’s a high possibility of casualties. If you think you can’t handle it, get lost now! I’ll give you to the count of three!”