Chapter 24: Broke Up

But for some reason, he forcibly suppressed the anger that was about to explode. He took a deep breath, turned around, and sat back behind his desk.

“Sit.”

He pointed to the chair opposite the desk, his tone stiff.

He was truly furious with this daughter of his.

Freya sat down as told, her back straight.

Lyra, like a silent shadow, stood quietly half a step behind and to the side of her chair. Her gaze was lowered, but her muscles were in a subtle state of alert.

“The banquet will be held the night after tomorrow at the Emerald Hall on the west side of the Imperial Palace.”

Hezdi stopped looking at Lyra, acting as if she did not exist, and got straight to the point.

“Aside from the elites of various academies, several young priests and scholars from the Holy Temple have also been invited. Nominally, it is an academic exchange, but in reality, His Majesty and His Highness intend to inspect the younger generation — especially… to select suitable talents for some important matters.”

He deliberately emphasized the words “important matters,” his eyes fixed on Freya.

It was as if this were an incredibly significant affair.

“So, it is not just a social banquet,” Freya stated, her face remaining expressionless.

“Of course not!”

Hezdi’s fingers tapped on the desk, creating a dull thudding sound.

“Freya, you are a daughter of my House Elwin. You were watched by His Majesty and His Highness as you grew up. This banquet is of great significance to you and the family. You must attend in your best state, showing the talent, cultivation, and… loyalty to the Imperial Family and the Empire that you ought to have.”

“Loyalty?”

Freya repeated the word softly. The corners of her mouth seemed to curve into an extremely faint, cold arc.

“Father, my loyalty naturally belongs to the Empire and the Imperial Family. However, that does not seem to conflict with my studies or my research assistant.”

“Your research?”

Hezdi’s voice suddenly rose before he forced it back down. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, speaking with an anxious, almost pleading tone that sounded more like an order.

“Freya, listen to me. I can stop pursuing what happened in the past. But your so-called Energy Compression Research has already attracted too much unnecessary attention and controversy!

The Holy Temple… has some different views. His Highness has also tactfully expressed his hope that you would focus your energy in a more ‘appropriate’ direction.

This banquet is an opportunity! A chance for you to rid yourself of those pointless controversies, return to the right track, and gain the recognition of His Majesty and His Highness!”

‘As I thought… interference from the Holy Temple and the “expectations” of the Crown Prince.’

Everything her father said hinted at her giving up her research and complying with the arrangements of the Imperial Family and the Holy Temple.

“The right track?”

Freya’s voice was light, yet it sounded like ice beads hitting the floor.

“What is the ‘right track’ in Father’s eyes? Is it giving up the research path I chose for myself to cater to certain ‘different views’?

Is it becoming a ‘Miss Elwin’ who meets everyone’s expectations but has no thoughts of her own?

Or…”

She paused and lifted her eyes, her gaze as sharp as a blade.

“Is it being like Irina Ewell? Being well-behaved, obedient, and knowing how to ‘seize opportunities’ so that she is more to your liking?”

“Freya!”

Hezdi slammed his hand on the desk and stood up abruptly, his face ashen.

“What kind of attitude is this?! How dare you speak to your father like that?!

Miss Irina… at least she knows how to be grateful, how to respect her elders, and how to consider the bigger picture! Look at you now — what do you look like?!

You have been spoiled into lawlessness by House Dale. Have you even forgotten basic filial piety and your responsibility to your family?!”

The fierce words flew like cold arrows.

Lyra’s body tensed instantly, her hand already moving toward the short sword at her waist.

Only after Freya secretly gave her a hand signal did she relax slightly.

Freya simply watched her enraged father quietly. There was no anger or sense of grievance in her eyes, only a bottomless, frozen lake.

‘Look, what a familiar scene.’

In her past life, such arguments had happened countless times.

Every single time, it ended with her being labeled “unreasonable” and “willful,” while her father was left “disappointed” and “helpless.”

And Irina would always appear at such moments with her “well-behaved and sensible” image, becoming a comparison that stung her.

But this time, she would no longer feel that sting.

“Father — “

Freya’s voice was terrifyingly calm.

“If you believe Miss Irina Ewell better fits your expectations for a daughter and an heir to House Elwin, that is your freedom. As for me…”

She slowly stood up.

“I will attend the banquet the day after tomorrow. However, I will do so as Freya Christo Dale, an A-rank Mage of the Central Magic Academy. I will observe the etiquette of the banquet and uphold the family’s honor. But my research, my path, and my assistant… these are my choices, and they are my bottom line.”

She gave a slight bow.

“If there is nothing else, I will return to my room to rest. The long journey has left me somewhat fatigued.”

After speaking, she no longer looked at Hezdi’s face, which had suddenly become exceptionally ugly and complicated. She turned and walked straight toward the study door.

Lyra followed immediately. As she passed Hezdi, she even lifted her head to meet the Earl’s eyes — eyes that were burning with rage and some indefinable emotion. A flash of unmasked, cold warning flickered in her red eyes.

The study door closed behind them, cutting off the suffocating low pressure inside.

The hallway was silent.

The butler who had led them earlier had withdrawn at some point.

Freya walked steadily toward the room she remembered as her own, the one belonging to the “Eldest Miss of Elwin.” Lyra followed closely, half a step behind.

It was only when they returned to that familiar yet strange, magnificent bedroom and closed the door — after setting up a simple [Soundproofing Barrier] — that Freya finally seemed to shed a layer of invisible heavy armor. Her body swayed almost imperceptibly, and she reached out to steady herself against the nearby dressing table.

“Boss!”

Lyra immediately stepped forward to support her, feeling the coldness emanating from her fingertips.

“I’m fine.”

Freya shook her head, unconsciously leaning slightly toward Lyra. Her voice carried a trace of exhaustion.

“I’m just… a little tired.”

The clash with her father was like walking on the edge of a knife with every word. It consumed more mental energy than an intense magic battle.

Looking at her pale face and the deep-seated weariness in her eyes, Lyra opened her mouth to say something, but in the end, she simply clenched her fists and whispered.

“Boss, you were… amazing just now.”

She truly meant it.

Facing a father with such an oppressive presence, Freya had actually managed to stay so calm and push back so firmly without yielding an inch.

Freya walked to the window and looked out at House Elwin’s garden — perfectly manicured, yet lacking in life.

“Was I amazing?”

She gave a self-mocking laugh.

“It’s just that… I have no way to retreat.”

She turned around and looked at Lyra, her eyes becoming sharp and clear again.

“Lyra, from now on, we must be even more careful. I’m afraid there is more than just my father’s pair of eyes watching us in this mansion. For the next two days before the banquet, we should try to stay in our rooms or go to the mansion’s training grounds. Keep an eye out for any strange faces entering or leaving the estate, and… among the servants, see if anyone is acting abnormally or staying in frequent contact with the outside world.”

“Understood!”

Lyra nodded heavily, her red eyes burning with fighting spirit.

“Don’t worry, Boss. With me here, not even a suspicious mouse will be able to slip past!”

Freya smiled and nodded. She walked to the desk, sat down, and began to organize the information in her mind.

Her father’s attitude was even firmer than she had anticipated, and he was more… agitated.

He seemed to be driven by some immense pressure, and that pressure undoubtedly came from the Imperial Family and the Holy Temple.

The banquet was the key turning point.

The golden mark on Irina’s wrist… the Holy Temple’s Stigma Trial…

She needed more information. She needed to know exactly what would happen at the banquet, what the specific plans of the Temple and Ross were, and the exact role her father played in all of it.

And she needed to figure out how to seize the initiative on this “stage” that seemed to have been prepared for her and Lyra.

Outside the window, above the Elwin Count’s Manor, the sun was blocked by heavy clouds, casting large shadows.

The mountain rain was coming, and the wind filled the halls.

Over the next two days, the Elwin Count’s Manor was shrouded in an eerie calm.

Earl Hezdi did not summon Freya again, as if the fierce confrontation in the study that day had never occurred.

The servants in the manor remained respectful and silent, though the gazes they cast toward Freya and Lyra seemed to hold a few more traces of indefinable scrutiny and hidden aloofness.

The air was thick with a sense of tension, like the calm before a storm. Even the carefully pruned plants in the garden seemed exceptionally still.

Freya and Lyra spent most of their time in the guest area assigned to them.

On the surface, Freya remained composed. She continued her routine of meditation, basic mana harmonization exercises, and reading the books and notes she had brought from House Dale. However, her thoughts had already flown to the upcoming banquet and the layers of mystery surrounding the Holy Sword.

Lyra faithfully carried out her duties of Observation and protection. She used her beast-like intuition to perceive every slight abnormality in the mansion and reported every suspicious detail to Freya with great precision —

For example, a certain servant glancing too frequently at Freya’s dressing table while delivering meals —

Or a strange aura that did not belong to the manor guards occasionally flickering in the dark corners of the courtyard.

On the evening of the second day, after Lyra returned from a “routine patrol” — which was actually her using her extraordinary skills to move through the shadows on the edge of the mansion — her expression was somewhat grave.

“Boss — “

She leaned in toward Freya, who was focused on meditating by the window, and lowered her voice.

“I think I saw that Crybaby.”

Freya opened her eyes, a sharp light flickering in her pale violet pupils.

“Irina? In the Elwin Count’s Manor?”

“Yeah. Although it was from a distance and she had changed into ordinary maid’s clothes, I recognized her gait and hair color.”

Lyra nodded with certainty.

“She came in through the side door and was met by someone who looked like an old servant. She went straight toward the east wing of the main building. That… should be the direction of your father’s study and private drawing room, right?”

Freya’s heart sank slightly.

Irina was actually able to enter the Elwin Count’s Manor silently and was even led toward the area where her father was!

What did this mean?