I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

╭══◞ Tulsi POV ◟══╮

We were all sitting in a carriage on the way to the academy. It was already somewhat past mid-sun by the time Master decided we should go.

It was awkwardly silent. From how they weren’t facing each other, I got the feeling Master and Asche had some kind of fallout. They weren’t even talking through their link from what I’d noticed. That made me a little sad. Yeah, I agree. I also liked their interactions—they were always full of emotion. Now? Now it felt like dining with my family.

I sighed and looked out the tinted window, watching the crowd pass by. A lot of people turned to stare at the carriage—probably didn’t see something like this come through often.

By chance, we spotted Fara and the others walking outside. They were probably headed toward the follow-up quest we’d started yesterday. Something about a nest of giant rats causing a disturbance. But we’d hit a snag—some section of the sewer was locked off, and we didn’t have access.

Not gonna lie, it was pretty fun. And Mai and Elaenor were pretty okay for humans. I knew staying with Master would help me grow more than running around the city with them… but I still kind of wanted to go. They accepted us, weak as we were. They even said I was amazing. Yes, yes. You were amazing too.

But there was no going back now.

Eventually, we passed the checkpoint into the Royal District, and—ugh.

A whole new wave of disgust.

All around me: buildings trying way too hard to impress, like they thought dressing in white and gold made them holy or something. Gleaming white stone, gold trim, perfect symmetry—like someone built it just to show off their coin and overpriced taste.

It was so clean it felt fake. Sterile. Overdesigned. Like the buildings were trying to convince you they were better than you.

I hated it.

Now, the capital of the Ashen Realm? That was different. That was real.

Dark wood halls that creaked when you walked, but only because they remembered who passed through. Black stone etched with silver veins, solid and heavy and proud. Sharp metal trims, deep-set windows, ivy curling up like smoke trails. It didn’t need to beg for attention. It just was.

Elegant and wild. Noble with bite.

I shook my head. No point thinking about home now.

I just hoped Master would finally show me something I could actually use.

╭══◞ MC POV ◟══╮

Turning a blind eye to the fact that Asche had completely shut down all my attempts to talk to her—ignoring even what I said through our link—the ride was, objectively, quite comfortable.

Tulsi’s obvious disgust at the Royal District’s buildings was understandable, even if the way her expression twisted was a bit much. Sure, the architecture wasn’t impressive—monotone, overwhelmingly white—but it wasn’t offensively bad either. Just very… centrally human.

Actually, I found myself wondering why the capital allowed so little architectural diversity. Sure, you could find fragments here and there, but judging by how King’s Garden was laid out, I could already guess where the Origin that founded this city had come from.

It made me wonder what the other towns in the empire looked like. Since hero summoning was real thing nowadays, did those summoned truly bring their culture with them? Did they influence the Empire’s aesthetics or structure at all? Or did the divines place some kind of mental restriction on them—filtering out what wasn’t ‘useful’ or harming?

Was there anywhere in the Empire where cultures had merged—in any meaningful sense—into something new?

I guess the best example I’d found so far was the Dancing Tails. I sighed, mildly annoyed at my own slow progress in figuring all of this out.

Still, it gave me something to think about. Maybe I’d missed something—some common thread, some pattern in how all these places were shaped. Not just by divines, but by Origins and the summoned. Their memories. Their influence. Or whatever scraps the System allowed them to keep.

I really hoped I’d come across something worth exploring eventually.

…Maybe later, once I got into the System.

I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment. The day was just getting started, after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The lecture room—more auditorium than classroom—was already full by the time I entered. The first thing I noticed: four of the champions were here. The centipede demon and the dragon-kin, however, were absent.

And yet… a wave of disappointment passed through the crowd. Murmurs. Frowns. Why would—ah. Asche wasn’t with me.

She’d wanted to investigate the library on her own. Something about figuring things out—vague as always. It hadn’t felt like a real excuse, more like a pretext. There was something else beneath her words. A hesitation. Almost as if she wanted me to stop her. But why should I? Even if our arrangement had… shifted slightly, we remained allies of convenience. So long as she didn’t sabotage me, she could wander wherever she pleased.

Still, it seemed the students hadn’t taken her absence lightly. They weren’t here for me. What they really wanted was a glimpse of the high elemental in action. Learn wind spells that could peel flesh from stone. Instead, they got me.

And I would use them.

According to my schedule, I had four hours of these ‘special' lectures daily. Outside that, I was permitted to stay in the workshop until the zyklos-watch informed me I could leave. During that time, students were allowed—though not encouraged—to knock on my workshop-mix door for advice. One I planned to discourage—strongly.

Tulsi trailed behind me like a wary guard, scanning the room with the tension of someone stepping onto a battlefield. Her eyes found the oni-girl in the third row—and narrowed. The glare she gave her could have frozen bone.

Excuse me? I was standing right here, and she was glaring at the oni like that was the danger. I was starting to feel a little insulted.

I stepped onto the lecture platform and moved behind the central desk. The blackboard above loomed unnecessarily high—adjustable, apparently, by some archaic rattling contraption.

In the meantime, Tulsi had closed the door and taken up position beside me, whilst I sank into the obviously uncomfortable chair. Goddess, why did every educational institution insist on furniture that reminded you this wasn’t meant to be enjoyable? Void forbid someone learned in a pleasant environment.

I hadn’t even managed to adjust my posture when a voice cut through the room.

“Is the princess not coming to this course?” His tone was sharp with annoyance.

“She is not part of the lesson,” I said mildly. No need to raise my voice—yet. I let my nails dig slowly into the wood.

A second wave of disappointed muttering swept through the rows. About a quarter of the students stood, apparently preparing to leave.

“Who,” I said softly—but the volume carried as if I stood beside each of them, “gave you permission to leave?”

They froze.

A hush fell across the room. Most hesitated. A few smirked, confident in their imagined relevance. One of them, dressed in gold-trimmed sleeves and entitlement, stepped forward like he’d been elected to speak.

“We’re sorry, Matriarch,” he began, far too smooth, “but we came here because of the princess and her wind magic. Having someone as rare as her teaching is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” Then, with just the right amount of false humility, he added, “You’re a master of ash magic—something no one here could ever replicate, no matter how hard they’d try.”

And without waiting for a response, he turned and began to walk toward the door. My nails scraped deeper into the wood.

Keep calm, I told myself. But the voices in the back of my mind laughed.

“Tulsi,” I said. “If he tries to leave, kill him.”

She didn’t flinch. Only nodded, though I caught the flicker in her eyes—she hadn’t known about the high elemental part.

“Is this a joke?” a girl demanded, stepping up beside the boy.

I laughed. Loudly. “You know, it seems I’ve been too polite,” I said. “Do you think I want to be here? No. But I made a deal with the headmaster.”

I stood up. My voice sharpened. “But if you insist on disrespecting me like this… well. You heard the command. Feel free to test it.”

“S-she’s bluffing,” stammered another student, clearly reconsidering.

But the first boy—he didn’t stop. He descended the stairs with self-assured arrogance, stopping in front of Tulsi.

“Am I supposed to be afraid if a li—”

He never finished the insult.

With a single flick of her wrist, Tulsi slit his throat using one of the special daggers I’d gifted her on her earlier.

White ichor spilled from the wound, not blood. Wispy and luminous, it rose like vapor—threads of his soul unraveling, pulled into the edge of the blade.

The students closest to him shrieked and scattered. Panic rippled outward.

But only for a moment.

“Silence,” I ordered. And they obeyed.

The room fell silent. Finally. Fear settled into their eyes—the one thing they were still allowed to control.

“Everyone not in their seat—return to it. Then, eyes on me.”

The boy’s body moved with the others, his soul still leaking into the air, trailing like smoke as he walked back. Tulsi licked the blade casually, like it was a candy stick. Thankfully, none of them could see her with their gazes locked on me.

I clasped my hands together.

“My, isn’t it wonderful what obedient students you suddenly became?”

Some of their eyes welled up. A few tried to resist the control—but failed. I wasn’t even impressed.

“Look at the boy.”

Their heads turned together, drawn to the boy leaking white ichor onto the floor. His eyes lost focus. And I ensured they witnessed every moment of it, powerless to intervene.

“Is something wrong?” I asked softly. “Wasn’t this the kind of demonstration you came for? A display of real power? You were so eager to reduce me to my familiar—so let’s make this clear.”

I stood still, hands folded in front of me.

“This isn’t ash magic. This is something anyone here could learn, given the right training—and the right fear. I’m not just the Matriarch of the Asche family. I’m also an honorary witch with ties to the High Council. My understanding of magic runs deeper than most of you will ever begin to grasp.”

I returned to my chair and snapped my fingers. The soul wound on the boy closed. Life crept back into his body—slowly, unevenly. His eyes regained focus, but not calm. Only the raw, ancient fear of someone who had met death without dying.

I didn’t actually want him dead. That would’ve been inconvenient. Risky. Stupid. But this? This was a lesson. Clean. Simple. Effective.

Not that I would ever teach them that kind of magic… or that I even could.

I clapped my hands once more. The control broke. Students sagged in their seats. Many of them trembling, some crying silently, a few fainting—but none dared scream. That part had already passed.

If they were too weak for this, they were in the wrong place anyway.

Surprisingly, quite a few still had some spark in their eyes. A fighting spirit. I hoped none of them would be foolish enough to test it again. Then again… they just might.

We were barely thirty minutes in, and I’d already lost time—especially mine. I might as well make them work for it. If I played this right, I’d get more useful information out of them than any outdated book.

“Now that we can finally begin,” I said, tone still cold, “let’s see how much you really know. After all, you all seemed so confident earlier.”

I gestured toward the boy Tulsi had silenced. She stood beside me again, her dagger spotless.

“You. How many Jaeger families exist?”

He flinched. “I—I know of seven main fa-families. And br-branch ones… I can only remember seven, too.”

A girl raised her hand. “There are nine branch families that we’re sure of. Including yours, Madam Asche, that makes ten.”

I nodded. “Thank you, both of you. The Jaeger families once numbered nine main houses and fifteen branches. All of them trace back to a single origin. Over time, the bloodline diverged—purposefully, not by accident. Eventually, nine children were born, each with a unique talent. They became the first Matriarchs. Strongest humans of their time.”

My gaze swept across the room. “They were the reason humanity was allowed to exist before the era of the divine.”

That part I delivered flatly—like something they should already know. Many were already scribbling notes like their lives depended on it. Internally, I snickered.

Once the flurry of writing slowed, I continued. “What can you tell me about this continent—and our empire?”

A high elf girl raised her hand.

“Yes. You.”

“The continent is called Elyssar,” she began, steady but nervous. “It’s divided into twenty-one major territories. The Human Empire lies toward the center-south. To our southeast is the Beast-kin Empire. North of that is the Elven Empire, which stretches wide. To the northeast of the Elves is the Ashen Realm—it cuts deep into the eastern part of the continent. Nestled between the Elven Empire and the Ashen Realm are smaller territories: the Witchdom to the west, the Eternal Citadel in the center, and the Kingdom of Origins to the east. Just to name a few.”

She took a breath. “To our immediate north is the Dwarven Empire, bordered to the northwest by the Lamia Matriarchy. Further west is the Orc Kingdom—we only share a small border with them.

And to the far west, taking up our entire western edge, is the land of the Nagas. That border’s been sealed for centuries.”

I nodded. The balance of power on the continent had shifted—subtly, perhaps—but the major forces remained in place. Just more stagnant. More isolated.

One of the champions raised her voice next—the Marquis’s daughter. “The Empire itself is divided into kingdoms, arch-dukedoms, and two queendoms,” she said. “The desert Queendom of Mirbyt Nuan lies along the southern border of the Beast-kin Empire, covering over half its edge. It’s ruled by Ruqayya bint Azyra—the last known Veilwarden. She’s said to be the strongest human alive, rumored to be near demi-godhood.”

Okay, what in the void was a Veilwarden? And demi-godhood? That sounded… really interesting.

The girl went on. “The second queendom belongs to Eirwen Vintergrav, seated deep in the northern mountain ranges. No one really knows her class, but she’s called the Frostmourn Saint. The first and only ice-mage to halt the Winters through her own strength. She controls trade with the dwarves and the mines. No one’s ever seen her leave the north.”

Okay, it was a cool title—even without much context. Still, I was definitely getting ‘ice necromancer’ vibes. And honestly? I’d love to learn that kind of magic.

“The four arch-dukedoms divide the central plane of the Human Empire,” she continued, voice steady. “We have Rosenthal in the south. They control inland trade—rivers, lakes, and shipping. Then there's Rachveldt in the north, stretching all the way up to the Vintergrav Queendom and the Ashen Realm’s border. They're the Empire’s main military power—fielding the largest standing army and leading the war effort against the Ashen Realm.”

She drew a breath and pressed on.

“Stahlbrecht lies to the east. They support Mirbyt Nuan in skirmishes against the Beast-kin and handle trade with the elves. Known for their heavy cavalry and vast, tall-grassed plains—some regions almost resemble jungles. They also fight off remnants of that ancient Mana Beast. It’s also the granary of the Empire.

“And lastly, there's Karnwyth in the west. They once guarded the western border, holding back both the Nagas and Orcs. Peace returned only in recent decades—due in no small part to their mastery over monsters and war-beasts. Their mountainous terrain is full of valleys, streams, and unpredictable climates, making them the most resilient and adaptive. Of course, each arch-duchy has dukes and vassals beneath them, but without the arch-dukedoms, the Empire would’ve collapsed long ago.”

She paused for breath. “The other kingdoms are minor. Maybe Eldenreach is worth mentioning, but their capital has been under siege by sea clans for years.”

By the time she finished her monologue, it felt like half the class had mentally checked out—bored to tears—while the other half listened with intense focus, afraid to miss something important. Still, it was useful. Her explanation gave me a far clearer idea of how power flowed inside the Empire, even if it was superficial.

But there was still one thing I needed to know before I started shaping what they believed.

“Wonderful. So far, I’m impressed none of you neglected the Empire’s history. But can anyone tell me about the other continents?”

The girl hesitated. “Um... That one’s harder. Almost no one’s left this continent in a long time, so—”

She got interrupted.

The oni girl cut in smoothly. “We have Thalerin far to the east—the fae homeland, ruled by the Mother of Origin. Wild magic dominates that land. Solbrecht lies deep in the south. Rumored to be home to ancient dragons and beasts… a battlefield no one talks about. We don’t know what’s down there.”

She paused, then added, “The last continent is an archipelago to the far southeast. It's called Tiefaltara—the land of highs and deeps. Supposedly formed from the clash of two old beings in the ocean depths. Their battle shaped the islands. The Skycleft Harpies rule the cloud-piercing peaks. The middle layers are home to countless species, like the Scaleshroud Oni. And below… the Deep Sirens dwell in endless caverns beneath the ocean.”

“Near perfect,” I said, and gave a light round of applause. “But you missed one. Alt-Elyssar.”

Confusion rippled across the room. Even Tulsi blinked at me.

A young girl raised her hand, uncertain. “M-Madam Matriarch… there is no fifth continent… is there?”

I grinned. “Oh, but there is. When I was with the witches, I learned a few things. Things older than the Origins. Older than the divine. According to witch records—and Calypso’s personal notes—the first continent of this world was Alt-Elyssar.”

Tense murmurs spread through the rows. Someone called out, “Then where is it? Why isn’t it on any map?”

“That’s easy,” I said, voice smooth. “It’s hidden.”

The wolf-kin princess frowned for the first time. “How do you hide an entire continent?”

I clapped my hands against my thighs and stood. “So, that’s very easy to explain. And very hard to understand.”

I waved a hand, pulling down the giant blackboard. Chalk appeared between my fingers. I drew quickly—lines, dots, and flowing curves until a crude version of a rune emerged.

“This is an old rune,” I said, turning to the class. “I hope most of you have studied these before?”

Most shook their heads. The elf girl raised her hand. I nodded.

“It looks like the one outside the temple,” she said. “But simpler.”

“Exactly. That was a warding rune. This is a core construct. There are fifty base forms—probably more. Every old rune is built from one of these. Each squiggle, dot, and stroke changes meaning.”

I began adding marks as I spoke, “This line—mana flow. It fuels the construct. Throw in this, combine it with that—and suddenly you’re channeling water mana. Remove this line? That’s control. You modulate how much flows in.”

“And how do we activate it?” asked the boy whose soul Tulsi had tasted.

I tapped my nose. “Excellent question. We don’t know yet. These runes are ancient. Complex. We don’t fully understand them. One wrong mark changes everything.”

I traced a symbol onto the board, keeping my tone casual. “If I put the same symbol on the other side—mist. One below it? Back to water. But if I add this—”

Without warning, the rune burst into flame and devoured itself in a flash of light and ash.

I turned back to the stunned room and smiled. “It failed to hold itself together and destroyed itself. Old runes are dangerous. They have no safety mechanism. No internal checks. They’re wild, and they can kill you.”

The room was silent. All eyes on me.

“And this kind of magic—the unstable, unregulated kind—this is what was used to hide Alt-Elyssar.”

Now they were pale. Wide-eyed. Refusing to believe.

“These runes aren’t recognized by the System. That’s the point. No divine interference. No records. That’s why no one’s found it. Everyone assumed the System governed all things.” I let the silence hang for a breath. “It doesn’t.”

I laughed softly. “I get your reaction. But right now, this is the best hypothesis we have. Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense that no one has figured anything out in all this time. We assumed the runes were part of the System, so we relied too much on it.”

“W-What’s on that continent?” a young boy asked, almost whispering.

“If Calypso’s notes are true,” I said slowly, “Eternal had an acquaintance. Not a friend. But someone she traded knowledge with. Someone who created… things.”

I folded my arms. “So whatever is locked away on Alt-Elyssar… we want it to stay there. That’s my current research. That’s my goal. Because if the One Evil is real—and sealed there as we assume—then our job is to keep the seal in place.”

Silence. Then, someone clapped.

Then another.

Even Tulsi joined in.

The whole class applauded.

I must’ve looked like a deer in the light. Because that’s exactly how I felt.

Why the fuck were they applauding?

╭══◞ Asche POV ◟══╮

I might’ve told her I was heading to the library… but the truth is, I first went to the mensa. I was hoping Tana would be there.

She wasn’t.

The only thing waiting for me were the students’ stares—a mix of awe and quiet horror. I made myself scarce fast. Luckily, the headmaster had explained yesterday how to reach the library. Before she came to collect me.

Professor Millie was kind. Really kind. There was something about her—like she could see through me—but instead of feeling creeped out, it felt… calming.

It took a while to gather the books I thought I needed. But the more I read, the less I understood. After what I guessed was an hour, I gave up. None of it made sense. None of it stuck.

I wasn’t a book person. I never was. I learned by moving, by doing. Not staring at words or formulas. And these were supposed to be the easy books…

I sighed and dropped my head onto the table with a dull thud.

“A-are you okay?”

I bolted upright. “T-Tana!” I squeaked.

She gave a shy little smile. “H-hey…”

“IamsosorryIdidn’tmeantohurtorscareyouoranythingIjustlostcontrolIamsososorry,” I blurted out, heat rushing to my cheeks.

She giggled—and my heart calmed, just a little.

“I-it’s fine,” she said. “I’m sorry I ran. I was just… surprised. I didn’t expect a princess to talk to me normally. Or sit beside me. Or try to protect me.”

“I could’ve done better,” I said, quieter this time.

“D-don’t worry about it... uh—what are you doing here?” she asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“To be honest? Trying to learn something new. But books and me? Not really best friends,” I admitted.

“Ohhh, I know that feeling. Want some help?”

My tail swayed, hopeful. “Would you really?”

“Of course.” She sat down beside me, smiling warmly. “So—what are we looking at?”

“W-well…”

╭══◞ Tulsi POV ◟══╮

We’d been in the workshop for a while now… and I still had no idea what Master was doing.

Or more specifically—I had no idea what she was saying anymore. The moment she started explaining those runes, I started losing track. Not just what she was saying—but what it was even supposed to mean.

She was talking about things outside of the System. Beyond the reach of the divine. A lost continent. Threats no one had names for.

No, you also clearly didn’t understand a word she was saying…

And before we even got here, she told me to keep my soul vision active. All day. No matter what.

But that just made things weirder.

The daggers she gave us? The System itself warned me about them. And not just a red text warning. No. Full-on message cascade. It used words I didn’t even recognize, as if the System had to improvise how to react. I was tempted to open my status sheet… but I didn’t. If she’d used them herself, she would’ve gotten the same alerts. And clearly, she wasn’t worried.

So why should we be?

And Void, when I slit that student’s throat?

Liberation. Yes, I know you loved it too.

We could feel his soul unraveling—and ours growing stronger with every drop.

I was honestly a little disappointed when she brought him back. With tools like this, I could farm dungeons and evolve so fast. Goddess, you're just as excited about that as I am, huh?

But what caught me more off guard was how casually she let him live. After what he said? After that insult?

Yet what shook me even more… was Asche. A high elemental. Following her willingly. As a familiar.

Just… how strong was Master? Stop drooling please…

Also, she claimed that was all she knew about the runes. That the rest was still in research. So she switched to teaching fire and ice theory for a while.

But once we entered the workshop?

She casually started tossing around those same old runes. Complex ones. Way more intricate than the ones she showed us in class. Like she was playing with children’s spells.

The same glyphs used to guard the temple? They were scattered around the forge like they were nothing special.

I know, it didn’t make sense at all! No, we should not try that too.

Later, she finally opened the forge manual the headmaster gave her. I watched her frown at some of the diagrams. Her brow furrowed like she didn’t fully understand them.

How was that even possible?

Throughout the process, my soul vision kept picking up strange threads—ones that kept trying to attach to her. I tried to follow them. But each time, they broke the moment I focused. And that you also had the same reaction was even weirder.

Whatever they were… they were trying to connect. Then instantly failing.

The longer I stayed around Master, the more shrouded in mystery she became. But in the end, it didn’t matter.

I’d learned more today than we had in months. If we could understand even a little of her fire and ice magic… maybe I could evolve. Maybe I could unlock a better class too.

Maybe we could become something worthy.

Hehe, thank you, you too… let’s both strive for that—

—For power.

╭══◞ MC POV ◟══╮

I swear, why was everything in this world so tied to the damn System?

Some parts of the forge manual were written in System terms I didn’t even understand. So I had to figure out a roundabout way to work with it. Runework, mostly. Runes to translate what should’ve been a skill into something functional for me.

Thankfully, the session with the students had helped. Apparently, lectures alone were enough to unlock basic-level skills. The System still registered what they were exposed to as valid input. But when I demonstrated magic that didn’t exist as a System skill, it threw them off completely. I had to adjust the method just so they could begin to grasp it.

And that confirmed something I’d been dreading: magic outside the System—my magic—wasn’t meant to be used by those still inside it. There were probably ways around that, but it would take testing. And testing would take time.

Knock knock.

I groaned.

That was the fifth person today.

At this rate, all I’d accomplish was figuring out how this forge worked—if that.

╭══◞ Asche POV ◟══╮

It was getting harder and harder to fake progress in front of Tana. She didn’t understand how I couldn’t already use half the things she thought were basic. And honestly? I didn’t have a good answer. Damn you, System. How was I supposed to learn anything properly like this?

Still, at least we’d dropped the study session by now and were heading toward the mensa to meet her girlfriend.

Turns out said girlfriend was also her childhood friend—Myr. A tall, athletic wood elf who radiated calm confidence.

Tana practically lit up when she spotted her. “Myr!” she shouted, immediately rushing ahead.

Myr, who stood a head taller than her, smiled and opened her arms. She pulled Tana into a hug and kissed her passionately.

“Hey, cutie.”

They’d both gotten in on a special admission—apparently because of their talents in wood and earth magic. As one would expect from a wood elf. But it didn’t stop there. The two of them also showed signs of forest spirit magic, which, as I’d learned, was rare. Rare enough that it usually only showed up in major bloodlines or fae-touched lineages.

Then her eyes turned to me. I watched as her gaze narrowed, then flicked to the other students whispering nearby—then back to me.

“Princess,” she said flatly, positioning herself slightly in front of Tana.

“M-Myr! I told you—she didn’t hurt me,” Tana said softly. “She shielded me. Even in her rage, she protected me.”

Myr closed her eyes, breathing out slowly. Then she nodded.

“Thank you. For standing up to those bitches. They had it coming. I can’t always be there for Tana, and they love picking on her. Heard Adelheid lost her privileges. Good. Even if the fossil brigade in the racist wing of the faculty can’t stop whining.”

“N-No problem,” I muttered, looking at the floor.

She smiled slightly. “You’re not proud of what you did. That’s good. I like you. You seem cool.”

She glanced to Tana. “And if she invited you? You can’t be that bad—even if you are a Matriarch’s familiar.” She clapped her hands. “Anyway. I’m starving.”

We grabbed food and found an open table. I even managed to get the honey-glazed meat from yesterday. Score!

Tana and Myr were so sweet together it made my heart hurt a little. They laughed, leaned into each other. Comfortable. Honest. I liked that.

“What brings you to the King’s Garden?” Myr asked between bites of a green apple.

“Oh… Asche and I are doing some research. We ran into some moon elves on our way here,” I said, staying as close to the truth as I could.

“M-Moon elves?” Tana echoed, suddenly tense.

Myr picked up on my confusion. “They don’t have the best reputation among our kind. Zealots. Obsessed with their moon goddesses. Quick to take offense. They find insult where there isn’t any.”

“Huh... Didn’t get that vibe from Marika…” I muttered to myself.

They both froze.

“Marika?” Myr repeated. “You mean the Marika? The mad alchemist who killed thousands of high elves?”

“Uh… I didn’t know about the killing part. But yeah. I talked to her this morning. We’re kind of staying at the same place—well, same inn. We’re currently helping her track down some kidnapped moon elves.”

Tana’s expression darkened. “Yeah. Humans and high elves—th-they don’t care who you are. If they see profit, you’re theirs.”

Myr pulled her close, voice quiet. “Her mother was taken by slavers when we were little. We almost got her back. Almost.”

“I’m… really sorry,” I said softly. “Tana, I—”

“I’m surprised you’re not with your Master.”

The voice came from behind me. Smooth. Familiar.

Noctia sat beside me without asking.

Of course she did…

“Oh, you know who I am? What an honor,” Noctia said in a mockingly sweet tone. Then she turned to the wood elves. “Hey girls, you good? She’s not bothering you, is she?”

“N-no,” Myr answered quickly.

Noctia glanced at my plate and grinned. “At least you’ve got good taste for an elemental. This meat’s the best in the capital.”

She took a big bite of her own and mumbled through half a chew, “Sho. You ready for round two yet?”

“Round two?” I blinked.

She swallowed. “Yeah. You two didn’t actually beat me. The headmaster told me before the match not to go full form—something keeping the arena intact. Not really fair, you know? You fought well, but if I’d gone all out, you wouldn’t’ve stood a chance.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Fucking dragon-kins and their pride.

“I hope you’re aware Asche was playing with you all,” I said flatly. “If she wanted to, she could’ve ended that fight in an instant.”

She laughed. “You really trust her if you say that. But in the end, she’s still just a human. A human with stolen dragon weapons.”

“They’re not stolen,” I snapped.

That made her pause. Finally, she really looked at me.

“Explain.”

I met her eyes. “Asche’s like you. A dragon-kin. She’s the last of her family—or more like, the last one with human blood. Her mother is the dragoness Volashia.”

Noctia shot to her feet.

“What did you just say?!”

Anger flared in her eyes. “How dare you bring that name up in front of me!”

I raised my hands a little. “You asked. What’s the problem? We’re not with her. Her mother vanished a long time ago. Part of the reason we’re here is to search for information about her.”

That… didn’t help.

“The Betrayer of Donnerberg,” Noctia snarled. “She’s been our enemy for millennia! And now her daughter walks beside me?!”

Okay. Wow.

Thanks, Lord Ulrich. Either you didn’t know about the dragon-kin rivalries, or you conveniently forgot to mention something important.

“Calm down, Noctia,” I said. “Asche didn’t even know who her mother was until recently. She knows nothing about what she did.”

That seemed to get through. Her breathing slowed, though the rage still lingered in her eyes.

And then—

—Another voice.

“Master was right. You’re here.”

“Tulsi…” I muttered, turning slowly.

She approached with that usual confident, unbothered strut. Noctia turned towards her and immediately wrinkled her nose.

“You smell like rot.”

Tulsi didn’t blink. “And you smell like a musty cave, lizard.”

Noctia blinked—then burst into laughter. “Okay, that was a good response.”

I sighed. “Why are you here?”

“Master told me to fetch you. We’re supposed to head back to the inn. Irmgarde showed up, and now the two of them are off to some fancy restaurant or something.”

My stomach sank.

“I… see.”

I tried to keep my face neutral.

“I hope she has fun.”

╭══◞ MC POV ◟══╮

I was sitting across from Irmgarde inside a noble restaurant, tucked into the second floor she’d rented out entirely for the two of us. Judging by the looks we got while walking past the aristocrats downstairs, they weren’t thrilled. What delicious disappointment.

The upstairs was quiet—just us. Candlelight flickered against dark velvet drapes, and the air smelled faintly of citrus, aged wood, and wine. She’d led us to a window seat overlooking the Royal District—the kind of table that announced its owner without a word.

She sat across from me now, one glove off, fingers lazily circling the rim of her wineglass. Not just waiting for the food—but for a reaction I hadn’t decided whether to give her yet.

I looked out the window. Lanterns lit the streets. Despite the hour, the Royal District still buzzed with energy. The night sky was clear, the view expansive, the atmosphere almost... cozy.

And quiet. That, I appreciated most. I’d been surrounded by people nonstop since leaving my domain, and it was starting to wear on me. Being here—just the two of us—felt like a moment to breathe.

“You’re smiling~,” Irmgarde teased.

I was, wasn’t I?

“You’re right,” I said. “Having peace for once in a place like this feels… nice.”

She swirled her glass. “It really is. This city gets heavy sometimes. A place like this? Somewhere you can just sit and be? That matters.”

I nodded. “Also, annoying the nobles downstairs is a bonus.”

She laughed. “You’re not wrong. Same trash that would toss you into a pyre to save themselves for five seconds—never mind that they built the fire in the first place.”

“That’s a very roundabout way to say ‘nobles suck.’ Aren’t you technically one yourself?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Born in the slums. Crawled up the ladder after I found pieces of a stolen spellbook. Turned out I was a prodigy. Lord Ulrich noticed eventually—sponsored me. Then came titles. Recognition. Strings. Chains.”

Her voice dropped. “They crowned me so they could use me.”

Then her gaze drifted towards the palace. For a moment, it lingered.

I tilted my head, resting my chin on my fingers. “What might make a beautiful genius look so irritated?”

Her lips curled. “Fishing already~?”

I chuckled. “Would that be so bad? Maybe I can help~”

There was a flicker in her expression—mischief, then thought. Then something sharper.

“You might be able to help,” she said, taking a sip of wine. Her tongue flicked over her lip with a deliberate slowness. “Depending how serious you are.”

“How so?” I asked, matching her tone.

She smirked. “No foreplay? Brutal. Not that I mind.”

She leaned forward slightly. “I want you to get rid of the hero.”

I raised a brow. “You want me to kill the hero?”

“‘Hero,’” she scoffed, spitting the word. “That little twat is just a serial rapist in divine mirage. Living out his power fantasy with a blessing the Goddess gave him—defiling anything he can get his hands on. He even tried it on the princess. And me.”

Her voice dropped, sharper now. “Lucky for me, I know how to ward against charm-class blessings. Otherwise I’d already be one of his little dolls.”

She leaned back, jaw tense. “He didn’t come alone. Two girls crossed over with him—heroes, same as him. Now they’re nothing more than his pets.”

“Let me guess. The Emperor likes him.”

She sighed. “Not just him. The Emperor, Archduke Rosenthal, and the bloody Metropolitan. They protect him like he’s the second coming of the Origin.”

Her fingers tightened around her glass. “All they care about is having a hero with a blessing. They say we need him to fight the Ashen Realm. Like the Ashen Realm can’t summon their own.”

“Let me guess again,” I said. “You’re the one who has to clean up after him.”

She downed more of her wine. “Exactly. I should be researching. Or building. Not cleaning up after some fake hero with a god complex.”

I raised my glass. “I’ll do it.”

She laughed at first—but then saw my face.

“You’re serious?”

“One condition.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Name it.”

“I want their bodies,” I said, calmly. “I have some research that could use them.”

She ran a hand through her hair, staring down into her wine like it might offer answers.

After a few seconds, she nodded. “I want one of the girls. The other one—and the boy—do what you want. I don’t want to see any of them again.”

“Deal,” I said, just as our food arrived—roast beef, green beans, something that looked like mashed potatoes, and a rich sauce on the side.

I lifted my glass.

“To future collaboration.”

“To future collaboration,” she echoed, clinking her glass with mine.

And for the first time since leaving seclusion, I sat back and enjoyed a real meal.

╭══◞ Asche POV ◟══╮

“She still isn’t back, huh?” said Cynthia, sliding into the seat next to me at the table I’d taken—tucked away, but with a clear view of everything. I’d spent the last hour scaring off anyone dumb enough to try sitting too close.

“No,” I replied shortly. I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Cynthia gave me a little smile. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Can’t you just… I don’t know, ask her? Through your link?”

“I refused,” I said flatly.

I wasn’t going to be the first one to reach out. Not to that selfish bitch.

The leopard-kin sighed. “Want me to bring you something to eat or drink?”

“Ale. And meat.”

She stood with a casual nod. “Coming right up, girly.”

Urg. I was so angry I could barely sit still. Not just at her. At everything.

Tulsi had ruined the chance to talk to Noctia properly—she’d riled up the dragon-kin so badly she stormed off in the end. We’d had a real lead about my mother, and now? Gone.

Why did she leave me in the first place? What kind of mother does that? Right. Mine, of course.

Was I just an experiment? A trade? Did my parents even love each other? Is that what love was supposed to look like?

Fuck. I wasn’t sure I even understood what love was.

Sure, I’d had relationships before. All kinds—different races, genders, types. But they all felt… hollow now. Like I’d projected something onto them that never really existed.

None of them lasted. They all left me. Said I was cold. Said I never gave them enough. That they felt like accessories—never equals.

I always thought I cared. Tried to, anyway. But maybe I didn’t even know what caring looked like. Being raised as a Jaeger—groomed to lead, to become the next Matriarch—maybe that broke something in me. Or left parts of me untouched. Untaught.

Maybe that’s why I lost control. Because for the first time, all the things I’d buried came rushing up. Or maybe… it was her.

Maybe her soul was rubbing up against mine. Bleeding into it. Maybe I was becoming more like her.

And maybe—just maybe—she was becoming more like me.

Was this what the System—her so-called sister—meant? This ache. This sympathy. This silence that hurt more than it should. Was it real? Or just the bond twisting us into something else?

Goddess, I’d only been alive again for what—a week? That was nothing. Sure, we’d crossed paths before, had our share of entanglements… But I never felt like this. Not then.

…Or did I?

Those fights with her—they were fun. Addictive. Like nothing else. The freedom to let go. The safety of knowing I could never really hurt her.

Even the last fight… I was angry, yeah. But I was hurt, too. Hurt in a way I hadn’t questioned until now.

Was it because I thought she respected me? That she saw me as something more than a rival? Goddess, what if I was just a toy? Some reckless child she tolerated until she had to put me down?

That thought hit harder than I wanted.

She was a monster… but so was I.

I raked my hands through my hair, overwhelmed by all the thoughts I couldn’t quiet.

Just what did I want from her? Why did she have to be with that smug Irmgarde? Who even was that bitch? Why did she get to impress her?

I could do the same. I could be brilliant, too—if I wanted!

“Dial it back a bit, yeah?” Cynthia murmured, placing the plate in front of me. “You’re making the customers nervous.”

“Oh… sorry.” I quickly pulled it back. Great. Couldn’t even keep it contained.

“No worries,” she said, sitting down. “I get it. You're… frustrated. Me too, actually.”

I glanced at the food—honeyed meat, soft bread, and a frothy mug of ale. I felt no hunger. But I looked up at her because it felt like I was supposed to.

“Zary?”

She sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

I nodded.

She rubbed her forehead. “We talked. It… didn’t go well.”

“She wants something from you?”

Cynthia nodded. “Something I’m not sure I can give. She’s a paladin. Devoted. Proud. I think part of her would rather die than admit her feelings out loud.”

“I’ve heard moon elves can be a bit…”

“Zealous? Absolutely. Especially when it comes to their goddesses. And Zary… sometimes I wonder if she’s a dragon disguised as a moon elf, with how territorial and proud she is.”

She smiled sadly. “We’ve known each other for a long time. And we got close. Really close. But she doesn’t like what I do. Doesn’t like that I’m… with other people.”

“But you’re doing it for your people, right?”

“I am. It’s not the best way—but it works. My class lets me operate without risk, and the more I level, the more I can help. I don’t care how much of my body I have to use. If it keeps other beast-kin safe in this damn city, then so be it.”

Her voice dropped. “If Zary wants something serious… she’s going to have to accept that. I won’t give up who I am. Not for anyone.”

I nodded. “You’re right to be angry. You’re doing something important. She should see that. Especially since we’re helping her rescue the kidnapped, too.”

Cynthia smiled—faint, but genuine. “I hope that’s all it is. That she’s just… overwhelmed. She finally opened up, and it was a such disaster. I’m afraid of losing her.”

She looked down at the ale.

“That stupid elf has no idea how much I love her.”

I snorted. “For someone so faithful, she really has no faith in herself. At least not when it comes to you.”

That made her laugh. And hearing that made me feel just a little better.

I took a sip of ale—finally.

She leaned back. “You and her… that’s even messier, huh?”

I sighed. “Yeah. We go way, way back. But I guess she always thought of me as a kid. Just a spark caught between her and Calypso.”

Cynthia blinked. “You knew Calypso?”

I groaned. “Unfortunately. Every horror story you’ve heard? Try worse.”

“But… she kept your soul. Brought you back. If she really didn’t care, why would she do that?”

That… was a good question.

“I don’t know,” I said, quiet.

“Maybe you should ask her.”

She stood, smoothing out her skirt. “She might not answer. But it’s worth trying.”

“Thanks,” I said.

She just smiled.

I looked down at my food again. Guess I should eat. Then sleep.

It had been a long day. And somehow, I knew tomorrow would be worse.

╭══◞ MC POV ◟══╮

Irmgarde had invited me back to her place, but just as things started to get interesting, a palace guard came bursting in—flushed, breathless, and panicked. He rushed straight to her side and muttered something low. Her groan was enough of an answer.

“The hero again,” she hissed, then looked at me. “I’m sorry, but our night ends here.”

She didn’t wait. Just left, like she wanted the floor to burn under her heels.

I briefly considered calling after her—something along the lines of ‘Preserve the body for me!’—but I figured that would spark rumors, or worse, questions. Not exactly the image I wanted to give in a noble district restaurant.

Still, I liked how she didn’t hesitate. Short words. Sharp steps. Vicious. Efficient.

—Fun.

Not the kind of person I’d spend a night with, but harmless flirting? Sure. No regrets. But now it was time to head back to the inn.

I hoped Aska wasn’t too angry with me for leaving her alone with Tulsi. Then again, she’d stopped listening to my thoughts entirely—which meant she probably wanted space. I respected that.

Strange how easy that had become.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Contrary to what I expected, things between Asche and me didn’t warm up. Not even close. Our interactions stayed minimal. Cold.

She didn’t tell me what she was up to, and she never once came to my lectures.

And so, I taught.

The students were… frustrating. Most of them were sorcerers, or wanted to apply runes using System-calculated formulas. Nothing I did made sense to them at first—because everything I used existed outside their narrow framework.

So I broke it down. Again. And again. I taught them the core flow behind ice and fire, showed how I modulated heat and pressure intuitively, then translated that into runes they could grasp. I adjusted formulas on the fly, simplified glyph arrays into workable patterns—even tailored how I cast basic spells to match their expectations.

It was exhausting.

But I had to do it. Not just for them—but for me.

Because sooner or later, I’d have to enter the System. But not yet. Not without preparations—tools that could let my magic function from within without handing over everything. And teaching these idiots meant practice. Repetition. Anchoring.

So I taught them.

They kept asking why my low-tier spells were so powerful. Why my fire licked through wards. Why my frost shattered reinforced barriers.

I didn’t answer. Let them speculate. Let the rumors spread.

The more they saw me as untouchable, the better. It kept the pests away. It kept expectations manageable.

And when they were gone, I escaped to the workshop.

That forge…

Void take me, it was a nightmare.

At first, I thought it would be simple—System-supported tech, a familiar setup, with modern stabilization tools. But the moment I tried melting the first ingot, it all went sideways. The forge resisted. The heat distribution was off. The mana flow wouldn’t settle. The metal cracked before it ever formed.

The forge was designed for System-tuned magic—and mine wasn’t.

So I tore it apart. Adjusted everything. Layered on my own runes, bypassing half the System’s flow circuit. I created mana sigils to reroute elemental pressure, rebuilt the stabilizers with crystal cores attuned to particulate flow, and reversed the venting rune entirely.

And still… it fought me.

It took days to find the right temperature curve. Even longer to learn how to shape the new ingots without destroying them.

They were harder than they looked. Infuriatingly sensitive to my magic. But I finally found the rhythm—the sweet spot between raw heat and magic input.

Just when I was ready to begin actual work—

Another knock.

More students. More interruptions. More questions.

I barely held back from snapping. This was supposed to be my time. But the day ended before I could do more than test the first batch.

And now? Now it was time for the auction.

Tulsi had stayed at my side the entire time—watching, listening. Quiet. Focused. She hadn’t tried to replicate anything, just as I instructed—just… observed. Closely.

Her soul vision had progressed faster than expected.

I’d pushed her, of course—deliberately. Every time I adjusted a rune or channeled something raw, I didn’t just let it bleed. I guided it. Nudged it into her soul, carefully, layer by layer. Just enough to shift how it responded. Enough that she might not even notice—unless she truly focused.

She hadn’t realized what she was seeing. Not yet.

But she would.

I hadn’t told her. Not directly. But she was starting to piece it together—and I could feel it.

Part of me was proud. The other part? Wary. Watching.

There were moments—tiny ones—where I sensed something in her aura that didn’t quite match. Like another force brushing up against her soul and pulling back before I could look closely.

I made an internal note to bring it up later.

For now?

We had work to do.

‘We have to get ready,’ I sent through our link to Asche.

The first time I’d reached out since the carriage. Since the silence started. Yet the answer still came quickly.

‘Okay.’ Short. Quiet. But something.

I turned to Tulsi. “Let’s go. We’ve got preparations to make at the Dancing Tails before the auction.”

She grinned—sharp, eager. “We’re snatching a few souls for me tonight too, right?”

“Oh yes,” I said, voice low. “Of course we are~”

I doubted I’d find anything useful. But sometimes the wrong rooms had the most interesting failures.

╭══◞ ??? POV ◟══╮

When they hoisted our cages out, they covered us in thick cloth.

The world disappeared. Only voices remained.

Some were excited. Some laughed. Some snarled with hatred in their tones. The ones carrying me said nothing. Their footsteps were heavy. Mechanical. Lifeless.

Doors opened. Closed. Metal scraped on metal. My cage dropped onto some kind of platform, the sound ringing out through the steel like a warning bell.

Time passed.

Whimpers. Movement. More noise. And then—everything shifted.

Hard.

For a moment, I felt like I was falling. The world jerked sideways. Screams cut through the dark, followed by silence too fast to make sense of.

I held still. I had to wait. I had to endure. Plans meant nothing if I cracked early.

And then the movement stopped. The noises vanished.

A door creaked. Then squealed.

Voices again. Words I only half-understood.

“…the Vixire hasn’t eaten in days… be cautious.”

They wheeled me somewhere else. Again.

Eventually, they stopped. Placed me down. Different room. Different smell.

Alone.

The air here was colder. Thicker. It didn’t move—it hung, stale and waiting. It pressed down against my ribs, against the hollow of my throat.

Then came footsteps.

Click. Click. Click.

Too smooth. Too slow. Like someone who thought the world should part for them.

“Ah… what do we have here?” A voice. Male. Polished, but cracked beneath. Arrogance curdled into rot.

“You’re lucky. Filth like you being allowed this close to someone like me. I’ll buy you. You should feel honored.”

I didn’t respond. But inside?

Inside, I seethed. Not with fear. Not anymore. With something colder.

Let him think I was broken. Let him mistake stillness for obedience. That was how it always started—with someone like him, thinking the cage was enough.

But I wasn’t waiting to be saved.

I was counting the seconds.

Let him touch the bars. Let him pull back the blanket. Let the light in. Open the door. Let him come close enough to bleed.

I was ready.

But nothing happened.

Maybe that was worse.