“From now on, I’ll let you spend my magic crystals!
Drink the magic herbs I brew!
Learn the magic of our Weir Family!
Live in the big villa I build!”
Charlotte shouted out the bold declarations in her heart. Her eyes were red-rimmed, yet she clung tightly to Annabell’s clothing.
Annabell was momentarily stunned.
Was she declaring that she’d keep her? What was this? This tear-streaked golden-haired girl in front of her was…
“Pfft!”
The earnest, almost silly expression on Charlotte’s face ultimately couldn’t hold. Annabell tried to maintain her aloof persona, but looking at Charlotte, she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer.
That laughter rang out as crisp and pleasant as silver bells, rippling through the morning breeze.
Even the old lady in her Sea of Consciousness was stunned.
Charlotte stood dazed, staring at Annabell who was laughing so hard her whole body trembled, barely able to believe what she was seeing.
The Annabell who was forever icy-cold, seemingly unapproachable, had actually laughed!
And she laughed so beautifully, as if melting away the first heavy snow of winter.
Annabell extended her slender fingers and affectionately flicked Charlotte’s smooth forehead. “You little fool! Keep this little fortune of yours for yourself—go buy some pastries.”
“Ouch!”
Charlotte clutched her forehead and threw herself into Annabell’s arms, whining coquettishly: “That’s not it at all… I’m really good at making money!”
At the same time, the two held each other quietly under the rising morning sun, savoring the last bit of warmth before their parting.
Above the Imperial Capital, a luxury airship emblazoned with Sky College’s dragon emblem slowly ascended into the sky.
Watching the Weir Manor gradually recede into the distance, Ai Weier sat on a spacious, comfortable divan, her beautiful eyes gazing coldly out the window.
She closed her eyes and softly chanted the meditation incantation High-rank Mages used to calm their emotions.
She tried to use mana to suppress the jealousy and frantic violence burning within her heart, enough to set the plains ablaze.
Ai Weier clenched her fists, her nails digging deeply into the tender flesh of her palms.
“Three years from now, you and I will have our battle! I will crush your dignity in front of everyone!”
“I won’t be standing still during these three years!”
“Anna, you’ll eventually understand that only I am the one truly suited for you…”
***
Imperial Palace, the Highest Trial Main Hall.
The atmosphere here had already been suppressed to an almost suffocating extreme.
On both sides of the hall stood the Empire’s noble ministers, High-rank Knights, and even bishops of the Holy Church.
At the far end of the hall sat the throne that symbolized dominion over the Continent.
Seated upon the throne at the very top of the steps was a majestic man.
He was the supreme ruler of the current Empire, Emperor Augustus, and also one of the top nine-level powerhouses on the entire Continent.
Below the high platform, a young man suddenly stepped forward and shouted sternly:
“Saintess Rosalind! You also entered that Elven King Ruins trial! I’m asking you now, how exactly did my poor imperial brother die?!”
The birth brother of the deceased Fourth Prince. This young man was the current First Prince of the Empire, and also the dead man’s biological brother.
His gaze carried deep scrutiny and fury, locked tightly onto the fragile yet holy figure standing in the center of the hall.
Rosalind, dressed in a pure white Church Saintess gown, stood within the hall alongside several Cardinals of the Holy Church.
Behind Rosalind stood a breathtaking beauty with a white veil over her face, holding the Scepter of Light.
When the First Prince’s gaze swept over this woman, an unavoidable hint of wariness flickered in his eyes.
Because that person was one of the three Grand Bishops of the contemporary Church of Light—Cecilia, and also Rosalind’s mentor!
Her voice drifted through the air like the bells of the Grand Cathedral, ethereal and cold:
“Rosalind, you only need to truthfully recount the facts you witnessed in the ruins. The Church will naturally protect you.”
At that moment, a gaze from the throne on the high platform fell upon Rosalind’s fragile shoulders.
Like a towering mountain pressing down from the sky, Rosalind felt the light mana within her body stall, and even breathing became extremely difficult.
Yet she still bit her lip tightly. Though her breathtakingly beautiful face remained expressionless, her eyes carried an unshakable resolve.
“In reply to His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Rosalind’s voice was light and clear yet calm: “His Highness the Fourth Prince and I did indeed enter the deep ruins trial through the same teleportation portal. As for the truth of his death… I am fully aware of it.”
From the throne, the Emperor’s voice came forth:
“Speak the truth exactly as it happened. If there is even half a lie, I will make the Church pay the price!”
Rosalind took a deep breath and said: “During the second trial of the ruins, the Fourth Prince unfortunately came into contact with a wisp of the ‘Abyss Black Flame’ that leaked from an ancient seal.”
“His mana core was eroded by the black flame, he lost his sanity, completely fell into demonic madness, and became a monster that knew only slaughter.”
“Boom!”
From the throne, a terrifying nine-level combat aura erupted violently, transforming into a solid wave of pressure that slammed the unprepared Rosalind heavily to her knees on the cold floor tiles!
The First Prince roared:
“Nonsense! When Father invited the Grand Prophet to replay the battlefield, he already saw remnants of terrifying sharp weapon wounds capable of tearing space on my brother’s corpse! He was clearly killed by someone—how could he have been burned to death by a wisp of Abyss aura?!”
“Your Majesty, please calm your anger!”
The Grand Bishop waved her hand, and a gentle light shield enveloped Rosalind, blocking most of the pressure for her.
She furrowed her delicate brows and looked at her beloved disciple:
“Rosalind! What exactly happened with that fatal wound? Who killed the Fourth Prince?!”
Suddenly, from among the nobles, a young aristocrat in ornate robes strode forward and called out loudly:
“Your Majesty! I have information to report!”
This man was the son of a certain Marquis who had always been jealous of Annabell at the academy.
He glanced smugly at the kneeling Rosalind and declared loudly:
“According to the Black Market Merchant at the ruins whom I’ve bribed, during the time the Fourth Prince fell, someone witnessed the Evil Woman of the Duke Trandy’s House—Annabell—also appearing in that area!”
“And I’ve further investigated that this Saintess Rosalind was once saved by Annabell. So I boldly deduce that that lawless Annabell brutally murdered His Highness the Fourth Prince! This Saintess is covering for her!”
The moment these words were spoken, the entire Main Hall erupted into an uncontrollable uproar!
“Good heavens! If that wicked Duke’s Daughter was also nearby…”
“The Fourth Prince’s death was definitely done by that crazy woman! She even crippled elders of the other Three Great Families!”
“The Duke Trandy’s Estate has grown too arrogant lately—they’re practically shitting on the Royal Family’s heads!”
The First Prince’s eyes turned extremely vicious, locking onto Rosalind:
“Speak! Was the Fourth Prince killed by Annabell or not?!”
Grand Bishop Cecilia’s expression turned ugly as well. Though she was extremely protective of her own, if it involved that Duke’s Daughter at the center of the storm, the Church couldn’t casually take sides.
An urgent magic telepathy suddenly exploded in Rosalind’s mind.
“Foolish girl! Rosalind!”
The Grand Bishop scolded sternly: “No matter what madness the Fourth Prince fell into, you will immediately pin this murder charge firmly on that Annabell! Otherwise, once the Emperor’s wrath pours down, not even the Church can protect you!”
In the hall, Cecilia maintained her aloof facade on the surface:
“Rosalind, you don’t need to have any concerns. Tell everyone loudly—the murderer hidden in the darkness is Annabell, correct?”
Rosalind knelt on the cold ground, her lowered eyes trembling.
“Teacher, since I was little, Rosalind has always obeyed your every word. I know you’re trying to protect me… but this time, this disciple can only go against you.”
“Because in that extremely hopeless Abyss ruins, it was that silver-haired girl who, with her slender yet proud back, stood before me like a goddess descending from the heavens, slaying those Abyss monsters.”
“That girl who always wore a disdainful expression was the most dazzling light in my despair!”
“Because… I too have someone I want to protect with my life.”
Rosalind slowly closed her eyes, carving Annabell’s proud, peerlessly beautiful face deep into her heart. She felt both a sense of contentment and unbearable reluctance.
When she opened her eyes again, that hint of cowardice had completely vanished.
“After the Fourth Prince fell into demonic madness from the Abyss Black Flame, he attacked me without recognizing anyone…”
Rosalind’s voice was as calm as still water:
“Trapped in a desperate situation, I was forced to release the highest order of divine punishment to defend myself. That strike was what caused His Highness’s unhealable wound.”
“So, the one who killed the Fourth Prince was not Annabell.”
“It was me, fighting to survive. Rosalind is willing to bear all punishment.”
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