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