Chapter 84: I’ll follow you

Her face showed no expression.

But within her heart, turbulent waves were surging at this moment.

Saintess.

Holy Sword bearer.

Sealing the Evil God.

She recognized every one of these words.

But when combined, they felt like a magic array she had never seen before—

Unfamiliar, complex, full of unknowns.

Serar looked at her expression and sighed softly.

“I know this is hard to accept.”

He said.

“But it’s true.”

Freya raised her eyes and looked at him.

“Why me?”

Her voice was very calm.

Calm, unlike a girl who had just been told she was “chosen by the gods.”

Serar looked at her.

For a long time.

Then he shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

Freya’s brows furrowed slightly.

Serar spread his hands, his expression innocent.

“Really, I don’t know.

The Theocrat only said the prophecy points to you.

As for why it’s you, how the selection works, when it happens—

She didn’t say any of that.”

He paused.

“You know how the Winter Order’s Theocrats are.

Cryptic, only saying half.

The other half, you have to figure out for yourself.”

Freya fell silent.

She remembered the legends about the Winter Order’s Theocrats.

Indeed.

Those people never tell the whole story.

They only give clues.

The rest, you have to find yourself.

“So—”

She began.

“You came to find me just to tell me this?”

Serar nodded.

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“And then?”

Serar blinked.

“And then it’s up to you.

What you want to do, what you don’t want to do, it’s none of my business.”

He paused, his smile turning a bit sly.

“Of course, if you want to know more about the Evil God, or how the Holy Sword bearer selection works—

I can help you.

The Winter Order’s library has far more books than here.”

Freya looked at him.

She said nothing.

Serar wasn’t in a hurry either.

He just smiled, picked up his teacup, and took another sip.

The private room fell into silence again.

This silence was different from before.

The previous silence was filled with tension, probing, and wariness.

This silence held a heavy, complex something brewing within it.

Freya lowered her gaze.

She thought of her previous life.

She thought of those legends she had never experienced, those prophecies she had never heard of.

In this life, how many more things were there that she didn’t know?

“Boss.”

Lyra’s voice suddenly sounded.

Freya turned her head.

Lyra sat beside her, her red eyes full of worry.

She reached out and gently grasped Freya’s hand resting on the table.

That hand was a bit cold.

Lyra wrapped her own hand around it, warming it bit by bit.

“No matter what about that Saintess or not—”

She said.

“I’m following you.”

Her voice was soft.

But very serious.

Freya looked at her.

Looked at those red eyes filled with sincerity.

She was silent for a long time.

Then she nodded gently.

“Mm.”

Serar watched this scene, a complex glint flashing in his eyes.

He remembered the last words the Theocrat had said.

“That girl has another light by her side.”

What was that light?

He didn’t know.

But now, watching the white-haired girl holding Freya’s hand, seeing the natural, unspoken understanding between them—

He suddenly understood a little.

“Let’s eat, let’s eat!”

He suddenly clapped his hands, breaking the silence.

“The food’s getting cold!

Nika’s cooking is top-notch, you have to try it!”

Freya glanced at him.

Serar had already picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of braised pork, and happily put it in his mouth.

“Mmm—delicious!”

He narrowed his eyes, looking utterly content.

On his face, which was still bruised blue and purple, this expression looked especially comical.

Lyra couldn’t help but let out a “pfft” laugh.

The corner of Freya’s mouth twitched slightly as well.

She picked up her chopsticks.

Picked up a piece of food.

Put it in her mouth.

The taste really was good.

Outside the window, the sunlight was just right.

In the private room, the three of them ate their meals, occasionally chatting idly.

The atmosphere was much more relaxed than when they first entered.

But Freya knew that some things had already changed.

Saintess.

Holy Sword bearer.

Evil God’s Awakening.

These words, like seeds, were buried in her heart.

One day, they would sprout.

And she needed to be prepared.

After the meal, the three walked out of Sweet Home Restaurant.

At the door, Serar waved to them.

“Let’s talk again next time!”

He smiled brightly.

Then turned and limped away into the crowd—the injuries Lyra left yesterday weren’t fully healed yet.

Lyra watched his retreating back and couldn’t help muttering.

“This guy… doesn’t seem so annoying after all.”

Freya didn’t speak.

She just gazed in that direction for a long time.

Then she turned.

“Let’s go.”

Lyra quickly caught up.

“Boss, going back for a nap?”

“Mm.”

“Then I’ll keep reading that bestiary!”

“Mm.”

Two figures gradually walked away.

The sunlight fell on them, stretching their shadows long.

Overlapping.

The sun slanted westward, dusk thickening.

Freya and Lyra walked side by side on the road back to The Academy, their steps light.

Lunch at Sweet Home had been pleasant, and on the way back, they chatted idly—

Mostly Lyra talking, about the strange new magical beasts she saw in the Monster Bestiary, about how funny Serar’s multicolored, bruised face was, about how the honey cake at that shop was much better than The Academy’s.

Freya listened, occasionally saying “Mm,” a faint curve always at the corner of her mouth.

When they reached The Academy’s gate, Lyra suddenly looked back.

Her red eyes narrowed slightly.

“Boss—”

She said quietly.

“The rats are gone.”

Freya’s steps didn’t stop.

“Mm.”

“I wanted to stretch my muscles a bit.”

Lyra muttered regretfully.

“Followed us all the way for nothing, ended up doing nothing.”

Freya didn’t speak.

But the curve at the corner of her mouth seemed to deepen just a little.

The two passed through The Academy’s main gate and walked along the main road toward the dormitory area.

The evening glow spilled onto the flagstone path, coating everything in a warm orange-red hue.

Students passed by them in twos and threes, some talking in low voices, some hurrying along.

Turning the corner of the corridor, Lyra’s footsteps suddenly paused.

“Boss.”

Her voice lowered.

Freya followed her gaze.

Not far ahead, under a plane tree, stood a person.

Pink hair, a light-colored long dress, a few books tucked under her arm.

Irina.

She seemed to have just come from the library, about to head toward the dormitories.

Seeing Freya and Lyra, a pleasantly surprised smile instantly bloomed on her face.

That smile was just right—

Not overly enthusiastic, not seeming deliberate, just the natural delight of accidentally meeting a friend.

She took small, quick steps forward to meet them.

“Good afternoon, Freya, Lyra!”

Her voice was crisp and pleasant, like a mountain oriole.

Lyra’s brow instantly furrowed.

She took half a step forward, shielding Freya.

Her red eyes were filled with vigilance and disdain.

“Get lost.”

Two words.

Cold as stone.

Irina’s expression froze for an instant, but she quickly recovered that gentle, proper smile.

“Lyra is still so… lively.”

She wasn’t angry, just smiled lightly, her gaze passing over Lyra to land on Freya.

Freya didn’t speak.

She just glanced at Irina, then looked away.

“Let’s go, Lyra.”

She turned to walk past Irina.

At the moment they passed shoulder to shoulder—

“Freya.”

Irina’s voice came from beside her, still gentle, still soft.

Freya didn’t stop.

“You went out to eat with Serar at noon today, didn’t you?”

Freya’s footsteps paused.

Just for a moment.

Then she kept walking.

“I saw you.”

Irina’s voice chased after her.

“You left through the school gate, talking and laughing.”

Freya didn’t look back.

Lyra’s fist was already clenched.

“You were following us?”

She turned around, small flames burning in her red eyes.

Irina quickly waved her hands, looking innocent.

“No, no!

I just happened to be passing by, happened to see…”

She paused, her gaze turning to Freya again.

Those pink eyes were now filled with worry.

“Freya, you…”

Her voice suddenly dropped, as if she had something difficult to say.

Then—

Her voice “involuntarily” rose a few degrees.

“His Highness the Crown Prince has always cared about you. Isn’t it inappropriate for you to go out to eat with another boy like this?”

The surroundings suddenly fell quiet.

The passing students, who had originally just been hurrying by, now stopped one after another.

Eyes swiveled over in unison.

Some recognized Freya, gasping softly.

Some recognized Irina, whispering to each other.

The murmur of whispers spread like a tide.

“Freya?

The one who froze a magical beast with one hit?”

“She and His Highness the Crown Prince…

What’s their relationship?”

“Went out to eat with another boy?

Really?”

“Who’s that boy?”

“I heard it’s that exchange student, the one with ice-blue hair…”

Those voices wormed into Freya’s ears.

She stopped walking.

Stood still.

Didn’t turn around.

Irina stood behind her, her expression perfectly crafted—

Worry, reluctance, and a touch of “I’m thinking of your good” sincerity.

“Freya, I don’t mean anything else…”

Her voice dropped again, carrying a slight tremble.

“I just…

just feel that His Highness the Crown Prince has been so good to you, for you to do this…

he’ll be hurt…”

The evening glow fell on her face, making the shimmering light in her pink eyes especially clear.

That look, anyone who saw it would feel heartache.

Anyone who saw it would think—

She was a kind, considerate, good girl.

And Freya—

Was a cold woman who betrayed the Crown Prince’s feelings and went out to eat with another boy.

The surrounding whispers grew louder.

Lyra’s face was already as dark as a pot bottom.

She stared at Irina, murderous intent churning in her red eyes.

“You—”

“Lyra.”

Freya’s voice came from ahead.

Soft.

And very calm.