Camilla curled herself up in a corner of the bath, only her head poking out above the water, just like a frightened little animal trying to hide.
Her ink-black long hair floated on the water’s surface, covering her delicate and adorable face.
Her ruby-like eyes silently watched Ophelia, who was resting with her eyes closed at the edge of the pool.
At this moment, she had already taken off her neutral trench coat and pants.
Her graceful, curvaceous figure was submerged in the pleasantly warm springwater.
After plenty of training, except for a certain part, her figure was far better than that of a salted fish—by more than just a little. In the hazy mist, her silhouette appeared and disappeared.
“Come here, Camilla.”
After a brief silence, Ophelia opened her eyes and looked at her younger sister, who was trying to hide.
“No, I refuse!”
“I’m helping you check for injuries, in case you’ve got any scars.”
“No way!”
Camilla, her face red, pressed her legs tightly together, glaring furiously at Ophelia who was opening her arms toward her.
“Alright, I swear on my birth parents whom I’ve never met: if I do anything you don’t want me to while checking your body, may their souls in heaven never find peace.”
Ophelia grasped the Amulet hanging from her neck, her face solemn.
“Pfft.”
Camilla, who knew the truth, almost couldn’t help but laugh.
She stared at the Amulet, which looked suspiciously like an encore badge, and silently sighed in her heart.
You really have a good daughter.
“Fine, but if you touch me somewhere weird, I’ll kick you.”
Saying this, Camilla swam over to Ophelia’s side, rather shyly showing off her petite and cute body.
How can they be so big?
Ophelia couldn’t help but swallow.
Unlike her own tall figure, which boasted an airport runway for a chest, Camilla, though small all over, had certain parts that were exaggeratedly large to a jaw-dropping extent—take three steps, and they’d bounce thrice.
“Is this okay?”
Camilla asked, covering her key areas with both hands.
“It’s fine. Turn around.”
Pinching her nose, Ophelia spoke—if she looked any longer, she might just get a nosebleed.
“Okay.”
Like a marionette, Camilla obediently turned, showing her smooth back to her sister.
She could feel Ophelia’s gaze land on her back, almost tangible, sending a subtle shiver rising up from her tailbone.
Ophelia’s fingers gently pressed on her snowy-white shoulder and neck, then slowly trailed down her spine all the way to her tailbone.
“Alright.”
A moment later, Ophelia withdrew her hand, her voice returning to its usual coolness.
“No hidden injuries.”
Phew, she really didn’t grope me this time.
Relieved as if granted amnesty, Camilla darted back to the other corner of the bath like a startled rabbit, once again submerging herself in the water, leaving only a string of bubbling sounds.
Ophelia looked at her back and pressed her lips together slightly, reclining against the pool’s edge again and closing her eyes—only the tips of her ears, tinged red, betrayed her inner calm as less than it seemed.
The comfort and relaxation from the bath were finally interrupted by a loudly growling stomach.
Camilla all but bolted from the bathroom and dove into the Kitchen, as if that were her safe zone.
She put on an apron.
The familiar pots and pans helped her regain some composure. She needed to do something to distract herself, to chase away those jumbled images and sensations from her mind.
Really, the Ophelia in the Game was just a little sultry, and her childhood self was just a bit clingy. How did she evolve into a pervert as an adult?
She decided to make something complex—Braised Stew and Handmade Bread, both of which required focus and time—just to keep herself busy.
When the aroma of food finally filled the little cottage, Ophelia had already changed into comfortable loungewear and was sitting at the dining table.
Her damp golden hair draped over her shoulders, less sharp than usual, with a touch more domestic gentleness.
The looks of a classic OP protagonist went without saying—even if her personality was twisted, she could topple ten thousand beautiful maidens with her face alone.
Camilla brought the steaming Braised Stew and the golden, crispy bread to the table, the aroma mouthwatering.
“Eat up, Sis. You must be starving.”
Camilla did her best to sound normal.
Ophelia picked up her spoon and began to eat quietly, as did Camilla.
The two of them ate in perfect silence, the only comfort on the table coming from the delicious food.
“By the way, Sis, did you meet the Principal of Mystra Magic Academy?”
“Yes, I did. Well… she was a bit different from the kindly elder I imagined.”
Recalling how someone clung to her leg, crying, “Omegai, please join Mystra Magic Academy! I can do anything you want!”
Ophelia felt her filter for legendary powerhouses shatter completely.
“I see. So, did you end up accepting her offer, Sis?”
Camilla held her cheeks, asking curiously, excitement flickering in her eyes.
“I agreed. In return, she granted me a request.”
“What was it? What was it? Tell me!”
There was a loud bang as Camilla slapped the table, jumping up in excitement—she looked ready to grab Ophelia’s shoulders and shake the answer out of her.
In the Game, to rope Ophelia into Mystra Magic Academy, the Principal would always offer an irresistible condition: the player could pick an item from her private collection.
The choices included, but were not limited to, the Heroic Spirit Sword with a heroic soul, the Lost Alchemy Page, a mysterious Ancient Magical Beast Egg…
Each option had a massive impact on the game’s plot and character development—like if you picked the Heroic Spirit Sword, Ophelia would later receive a quest called “Hero’s Path Redux.”
After completing it, the original Heroic Spirit Sword would be sublimated, turning into a cute loli Sword Spirit—one who could both fight and chat, and was a key helper in unlocking the true ending.
As someone who’d gone through N playthroughs, Camilla could swear on her chest—starting with the Heroic Spirit Sword and the Magus Knight class was the most OP combo in “Tarora Continent.”
There was simply no better setup for a smooth run.
Unfortunately, since Ophelia was still using last year’s birthday gift from Camilla, she probably hadn’t chosen the Heroic Spirit Sword—even though her class was Magus Knight…
But it didn’t matter. With her skills, as long as she didn’t go down the dark route, getting a good ending should be a breeze.
That’s what Camilla thought, but it was clear that Ophelia had no intention of following her plan.
“It’s better if you see for yourself.”
Smiling, Ophelia took out an exquisite square box from her storage bracelet.
Under Camilla’s expectant gaze, she opened the box.
Inside, a Mystra Magic Academy uniform lay neatly folded, with an Admission Letter placed on top.
In the name field, it read: “Camilla Veilrit.”
“Huh?”
Camilla was dumbfounded.
My own name is written on the Magic Academy’s Admission Letter.
Am I hallucinating?
How did her sister turn into such a big sis con…
I don’t like Ophelia anymore.