A long time.
A very long time.
Then she turned and disappeared into the shadows.
On the training ground, Freya stood alone in the center.
Lyra was crouched at the edge of the field, holding that Monster Bestiary, her red eyes watching her intently.
Freya raised her hand.
Silver-white mana surged from her fingertips.
Ice crystals condensed, swirled, and rose.
Then—
They exploded.
Not a normal explosion.
They transformed into countless tiny points of light, like a miniature blizzard, sweeping across the entire training ground.
Lyra’s eyes widened.
She saw those ice crystals refracting the sunlight into a rainbow of colors, beautiful like a dream.
Then she saw them, just before they hit the ground, suddenly change direction.
They converged toward a single point.
Condensed.
Took shape.
Finally, formed into a humanoid figure.
A figure identical to Freya.
The same eyes, the same long hair, the same cool, beautiful face.
Vivid and lifelike.
Lyra’s jaw dropped, the book in her hand almost falling to the ground.
“B-Boss… what is this…”
Freya lowered her hand.
The ice-crystal humanoid also dissipated, turning into specks of light.
“Clone Technique.”
She said.
“An advanced ice-element magic.”
Lyra’s eyes shone like two little suns.
“So amazing!”
She jumped up and ran to Freya’s side.
“Boss, teach me!”
Freya looked down at her.
At those red eyes filled with worship and longing.
“You can’t learn it.”
“Why?”
“Because—”
Freya paused.
“You have no mana, and you haven’t even practiced the most basic mana control.”
Lyra was stunned for a moment.
Then she scratched her head and smiled, a bit embarrassed.
“Then… then can Boss teach me the basics first?”
Freya looked at her.
For a long time.
Then she nodded.
“Okay.”
Lyra cheered and threw her arms around her.
“Boss is the best!”
Freya didn’t push her away.
Sunlight fell on the two of them, stretching their shadows long.
In the distance, on the training ground’s spectator stands, someone had appeared unnoticed.
Serar sat there, his ice-blue hair gently swaying in the wind.
He watched the two figures in the field, complex emotions swirling in his deep blue eyes.
“How interesting.”
He murmured softly.
He had seen it all just now.
He had seen Freya’s Clone Technique.
He had seen that mana control far surpassing a third-grade student’s.
And he had seen—
That fleeting, extremely faint trace of softness on her face when the white-haired girl hugged her.
The corner of Serar’s mouth lifted slightly.
“The Theocrat was right.”
He stood up, brushing the dust off his robes.
“This trip wasn’t in vain.”
He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the stands.
In the evening, Freya and Lyra returned to the dormitory.
Lyra flopped onto the floor futon as soon as she entered and started flipping through the Monster Bestiary, muttering to herself.
“Basic Magic Control… Basic Magic Control… Which page was it on…”
Freya sat at the desk and turned on the lamp.
The Starry Sky Legacy was still spread open on the desk, the bookmark placed on the page she had last read.
But she didn’t open it.
She just sat there, gazing at the twilight outside the window.
That dream still weighed on her heart.
Those images were still clearly imprinted in her mind.
She knew it wasn’t an ordinary dream.
It was her previous life.
What happened after her death.
Irina, using her Mana Heart Crystal, became the Saintess.
Ross, using the Holy Sword, became the Hero.
They used her power to win glory, status, and the admiration of thousands.
And she—
Was just a footnote in their story.
A forgotten, unknown footnote.
Freya’s fingers slowly tightened.
But her face showed no expression.
Only in those light purple eyes, something was quietly burning.
This time, it’s different.
This time, she knows everything.
This time, she won’t let them have their way.
“Boss.”
Lyra’s voice came from the floor futon.
Freya turned her head.
Lyra was lying there, her red eyes sparkling.
“Are we training again tomorrow?”
“…Mm.”
“Then I’ll keep waiting for you!”
“Mm.”
Lyra grinned, burying her face contentedly into the book.
Freya looked at her.
For a long time.
Then she withdrew her gaze and opened the Starry Sky Legacy.
Outside the window, the night deepened.
But in her heart, a fire was quietly burning.
When the light of the next morning once again spilled through the window frame, Freya opened her eyes.
It was warm beside her.
She turned her head.
Lyra was still asleep, her white head resting near Freya’s shoulder, her breathing even and light.
In her sleep, she lacked her daytime energy, curled up into a ball like a young beast that had made its nest next to its master.
Freya looked at her.
At her slightly trembling eyelashes, at the little fang that peeked out in her sleep, at her face, which looked especially soft when relaxed.
She remembered that dream.
Remembered those cold images.
Remembered that final moment, Irina’s gaze directed at her.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
Then slowly relaxed.
That’s all in the past.
Now, she is here.
Freya gently withdrew her arm, not disturbing Lyra.
She got out of bed, walked to the window, and drew the curtains.
Morning light poured in, illuminating the entire room brightly and warmly.
A new day had begun.
When Lyra woke up, Freya had already finished washing up and was sitting at the desk reading.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her white hair a complete mess.
“Boss… morning…”
Freya didn’t turn around.
“Morning.”
Lyra yawned, got up, and stumbled toward the washroom.
At the doorway, she suddenly stopped.
“Boss.”
“Mm.”
“Are we going to train today?”
Freya paused in turning the page of her book.
“You want to go?”
Lyra nodded vigorously.
“I want to go! I want to watch Boss train!”
Freya was silent for a moment.
Then she closed the book and stood up.
“Let’s go.”
In the Academy Canteen, Anke was already waiting.
Seeing them enter, she waved energetically.
“Freya! Over here!”
Freya and Lyra carried their trays over and sat down opposite her.
Anke leaned in, lowering her voice.
“I heard about what happened yesterday—”
She paused.
“You and the Crown Prince…”
“It’s nothing.”
Freya cut her off.
Anke blinked, looked at her expression, and wisely didn’t press further.
But she couldn’t help muttering quietly.
“That guy is just sick, obviously helping that pink-haired girl so eagerly, yet he comes to question you…”
Lyra nodded emphatically beside her.
“Exactly, exactly!”
Anke glanced at her and couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re quite protective of your master.”
Lyra puffed out her chest.
“Of course! Boss is my boss!”
Anke laughed even harder.
Freya didn’t speak, just slowly sipped her tea.
But the faint curve at the corner of her lips betrayed her.
After the meal, the three of them walked out of the canteen.
The sunlight was good, warm on their skin.
Anke had to go to class, waved at them, and hurried off.
Freya and Lyra walked side by side toward the training ground.
Halfway there, they encountered someone.
Serar stood in the middle of the path, his ice-blue hair gleaming in the sunlight, wearing his trademark smiling expression.
His face looked much better today—
The bruises had faded considerably, the swelling had mostly gone down, and he finally looked like a normal person again.
“Good morning, Freya, Lyra!”
He greeted them warmly.
Lyra’s brow immediately furrowed.
“Why are you here again?”
Serar blinked.
“Just passing by, purely passing by.”
He paused, his gaze falling on Freya.
“Heading to the training ground?”
Freya didn’t speak.
Serar didn’t mind, continuing on his own.
“I’m going too. Together?”
Lyra took a step forward, blocking Freya.
“No.”
Serar looked at her, his smile unchanged.
“Why?”
“Because—”
Lyra said righteously.
“You’re too annoying.”
Serar was taken aback for a moment.
Then he laughed, laughing so hard he bent over.
“Interesting…”
He said.
“Truly interesting.”
He looked at Freya, his deep blue eyes brimming with amusement.
“Freya, your little follower is too amusing.”
Lyra’s fist hardened again.
“Say that again?”
Serar quickly took a step back, raising his hands.
“Alright, alright, I won’t say it, I won’t say it.”
He lowered his hands, his expression becoming a bit more serious.
“However, I really do have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
He looked at Freya.
“About what the Theocrat said, and some… other matters.”
Freya looked at him.
Those light purple eyes held no ripples.
“Speak.”
Serar glanced around.
“It’s not convenient here.”
He paused.
“See you at the training ground.
You train first. I’ll find you after you’re done.”
With that, he turned and walked away, walking so fast it seemed like he was afraid Lyra’s fist would chase after him.
Lyra watched his retreating back, her red eyes full of wariness.
“Boss, he’s definitely plotting something again.”
Freya withdrew her gaze.
“Let’s go.”
On the training ground, Freya stood in the center.
Lyra crouched at the edge of the field, holding the Monster Bestiary, watching her intently.
Today, Freya was practicing control.
Not large-scale attacks, but extreme precision.
Ice crystals surged from her fingertips, not exploding outward, but condensing into threads as fine as hair.
Those ice threads intertwined in the air, weaving into complex patterns—
A flower, a bird, the outline of a person.
Each ice thread was so thin it was almost invisible, yet precise down to the last millimeter.
Lyra stared, her eyes wide.
“So amazing…”
She murmured to herself.
On the training ground’s spectator stands, someone had appeared unnoticed once again.
Serar sat there, his deep blue eyes intently watching the light purple figure in the field.
His face lacked its usual playful smile.
There was only a heavy, focused, almost reverent gaze.
By the time training ended, it was already noon.
Freya walked out of the training ground, fine beads of sweat on her temples.
Lyra immediately handed over a water bottle.
“Boss, drink some water!”
Freya took it and drank a sip.
Footsteps sounded from behind.
Serar walked over, stopping about three steps away from her—
A distance just far enough that Lyra wouldn’t immediately attack.
“Very impressive.”
He said.