[POV Liselotte]

Sunlight filtered timidly through the heavy silk curtains, painting threads of gold across the carpeted floor. I opened my eyes slowly, feeling a pleasant heaviness in my eyelids and a comforting warmth wrapping around me like a cocoon. For a moment, my mind lingered in that half-awake state where time doesn’t exist—but then yesterday’s memories crashed back all at once, like an unstoppable tide that forced me fully awake.

Yesterday had been, without a doubt, the most chaotic day of my life in Lyre.

First, the sight of Ulric and the others. Seeing my former classmates from Terra transformed into the so-called “Heroes of Gaia” under the wing of a corrupt Church had been like taking a direct hit from forbidden magic. Edward Celium’s past—one I thought buried beneath three years of a new identity—had returned wearing steel and divine arrogance. And then… Leah.

My heart lurched as I slightly turned my head on the pillow. Leah was there, just a few centimeters away. At some point during the night, after the tears had dried and the confessions had poured out like a flooding river, exhaustion had finally claimed us. We had fallen asleep side by side, sharing the same space, the same sheets—and now I knew—the same feelings.

Leah slept with an expression of peace that stole my breath. Her breathing was steady and calm, and a strand of her blonde hair rested against her cheek. Seeing her like that sent a sharp, almost painful happiness through my chest, so intense it hurt. She was no longer just my princess or the one I protected. We were a couple now. Leah knew my darkest secret—she knew Edward, the fire, the other world—and she had chosen me anyway. She had promised to follow me even across lifetimes.

“I’ll protect you,” I thought, and this time the determination didn’t come from a guardian’s duty, but from a woman’s love. “It doesn’t matter if Ulric and the others are heroes or gods. If they try to touch this present we’ve built, I’ll reduce them to ashes of ice.”

Suddenly, Leah let out a small sigh and her eyelashes fluttered. My eyes flew open in internal panic as I tried to decide whether I should pretend to still be asleep. Before I could react, she opened her fire-colored eyes and looked straight at me. For a second, confusion flickered across her gaze—but then recognition bloomed, lighting up her face. She smiled—so beautiful, so full of genuine, radiant tenderness—that I felt my face ignite into a deep crimson instantly.

“Good morning, Lotte,” she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep. “Did you rest well?”

“Y-yes… good morning, Leah,” I replied, looking up at the ceiling, feeling like the most embarrassed person on the planet. “I… I didn’t expect to wake up like this. I mean, I fell asleep without realizing it.”

Leah let out a soft giggle and propped herself up on one elbow. “After everything we talked about, it was only natural for our bodies to give in. But I’m glad that the first thing I see today is you. It makes me feel like none of yesterday was a dream.”

I forced myself to look at her again, trying to reclaim my newly acquired composure—though I suspected my blush was betraying me completely.

“It wasn’t a dream, Leah. I’m here. And… what we said last night… I meant every word,” I said, feeling my heart pound against my ribs.

Leah reached out and brushed my cheek with the back of her fingers. “So did I, Lotte. Now it’s us against whatever comes next. Ready for our first day as… you know?”

I nodded, feeling a warmth no fire magic could ever rival. “Ready. We should get dressed. If we’re late today, the King will think yesterday’s meeting left us out of commission—and the Church won’t hesitate to use that against us.”

We got out of bed with an awkward, conspiratorial clumsiness. Getting ready for class—once a mechanical routine—felt different now. There were little pauses, glances meeting in the mirror as we adjusted our uniforms, and a pleasant, electric tension hanging in the air. As I tied the ribbon of my academy uniform, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw Liselotte. Emerald-green hair, blue eyes… Edward Celium was still a part of me, but the woman staring back was the one Leah loved. And that was enough.

We left the room and found Chloé in the suite’s common room. She was already dressed, devouring what looked like a mountain of honeyed toast. The moment she saw us walk in together, her ears twitched and her golden eyes gleamed with mischievous delight.

“Well, well,” Chloé said with her mouth half full. “Looks like the atmosphere has changed dramatically. Last night’s anxiety scent has been replaced with… what should I call it? Flowers and honey? You both look radiant.”

Leah blushed but held her head high as she walked toward the table with elegance. “Good morning to you too, Chloé. I see you haven’t lost your appetite despite yesterday’s political crisis.”

“Hunger is the only constant in this ever-changing world, Princess,” Chloé replied, winking at me. “So, Lotte… did you tell her everything? Or do I need to step in and explain the more technical parts of your… origin?”

“Chloé!” I exclaimed, feeling the blush return to my cheeks. “It’s all been discussed. Please stop being so… you.”

Chloé laughed openly. “Alright, alright. I’m just glad to see you’ve bounced back. I was worried I’d have to go to the castle alone and bite a couple of priests to cheer you up.”

“Thank you, Chloé,” Leah said seriously as she sat beside her. “Thank you for taking care of Lotte last night when I didn’t know how to calm her.”

“That’s what friends are for,” the wolf replied, turning serious for a moment. “But brace yourselves. I heard murmurs from the campus guards on my way here. The envoys from Orestia haven’t left. In fact, it seems they’ve settled into the academy’s guest wing. Today’s going to be a nest of vipers.”

We finished breakfast in a lighter mood, chatting about trivial things to keep our nerves in check. Still, as we left the dormitories and walked through the academy’s white stone corridors, the atmosphere was noticeably different. Students whispered in clusters, and nobles looked at us with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity. News of the “Heroes” had spread like wildfire across campus.

We arrived at the classroom just in time. As we entered, I noticed that most of our third-year classmates were unusually silent. Maya and Elina greeted us from their seats, worry clearly etched on their faces. Before we could exchange words, the door burst open. It wasn’t our usual instructor, but an academic coordinator with a stern expression.

“Attention, third-year students!” the professor called out. “Today’s theoretical classes have been suspended. The academy administration has accepted a proposal from the Church of Orestia to hold a joint demonstration and training session. All students, from first to fifth year, are to proceed immediately to the Grand Coliseum.”

“I knew they wouldn’t wait long,” Leah whispered, snapping her book shut. “They want to show off their ‘gift’ to the whole academy.”

We moved in procession toward the coliseum—a circular stone amphitheater that usually hosted our practice duels. As third-year students, we took our places in the preferred stands, watching as younger students filled the rest of the space. The tension in the air was so thick it felt tangible.

At the center of the arena, beneath the midday sun, stood the Church’s envoys—and beside them, Ulric’s group. They wore white-and-gold armor that gleamed with an almost offensive brilliance under natural light. High Priest Malachias stepped forward, raising his staff to call for silence.

“Students of the glorious Academy of Whirikal!” Malachias proclaimed, his voice magically amplified. “Today, the Church of Gaia comes not to preach faith, but to show you the future of this world’s protection. To foster a spirit of combat and demonstrate the worth of the Heroes sent to us by the Goddess, we will conduct a friendly exercise. We call upon five first-year volunteers to test their skills against the chosen of the Light!”

The murmur in the stands swelled into a chorus of nervous voices. First-years were barely adolescents just beginning to understand mana flow. Asking them to face warriors said to have trained for fifty years was cruelty disguised as opportunity.

Five first-year students, driven by ambition or noble pressure, stepped into the arena. They were boys and girls around fifteen or sixteen, their practice swords trembling slightly in their hands. They looked so small compared to the towering figures of the heroes.

Opposite them, Ulric and four other heroes—including the giant Conrad and the young Isolde—took their positions. Ulric swept his gaze across the stands, pausing briefly on the third-year section. His eyes landed on me—but there was no recognition of our shared past. To him, I was merely “the green-haired guardian of the princess.” His look dripped with arrogant disdain—the kind a professional gives to a bothersome obstacle.

“Looks like they’ve given us new toys to break, Ulric,” Conrad commented, his voice resonating metallically through his open helm.

“Don’t be rough, Conrad,” Ulric replied with a smile that churned my stomach. “We should be good mentors. Let’s show these children the difference between a school game and the true power of a Hero.”

From my seat, I felt Leah tighten her grip on my hand beneath her cloak. Her fingers were hot, carrying restrained fury.

“This is a public humiliation, Lotte,” Leah whispered. “Those kids don’t stand a chance. The Church is using first-years to make the power gap absolute.”

“I know,” I replied coldly. “They want fear to spread from the academy’s foundation. Look at their stances, Leah. They’re not in practice guard—they’re in real combat guard.”

I watched Ulric. He didn’t know I was Edward. He didn’t know the green-haired girl watching him with disdain was the same person he mocked in our school gym back on Terra. To him, I was just part of Whirikal’s scenery—a guardian who would eventually have to kneel before his staff. That ignorance gave me an advantage, but it also filled me with a quiet, simmering rage.

“Let the exchange begin!” the academy professor shouted, though his voice lacked conviction.

The five first-year students charged, shouting to bolster their courage. They cast basic fire spells and wind bursts—attacks admirable for their level. But Ulric didn’t even draw his golden sword. He simply extended one hand, and a barrier of white light erupted with such force that it sent all five students flying before they could even get within ten meters.

Their bodies struck the stone floor with a dull, painful thud. Gasps from the stands were drowned out by the heroes’ mocking laughter.

“Is this all Whirikal’s future has to offer?” Ulric asked calmly as he walked toward one of the fallen boys struggling to rise. “The Goddess would be disappointed. Perhaps upper-year students might offer more… or perhaps their guardians.”

Ulric lifted his gaze again toward our section, pointing at me with a gold-gauntleted finger. He didn’t know who I was, but his instinct told him I was the true challenge there.

“You—the one with green hair,” Ulric called out, challenging. “Are you going to sit there and watch your charges bite the dust, or are you coming down here so we can see if that serious look of yours holds up under the weight of a real Hero?”

I felt Leah’s hand tense in mine. Chloé rose to her feet with a threatening growl rumbling in her throat. But I remained calm. I stood slowly, feeling the chill of my magic begin to frost the air around me. The gods’ game had placed us face to face once more—and though he didn’t know it, the person he was challenging already knew him better than anyone.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep