Monday, June 8, 675—the fifth day of the festival—proved to be one of its most pleasant days. Many people had departed the city of Ghesmbourg, whether for business or due to urgent personal matters.
This made it possible to move around the city's bustling districts—areas that had been nearly impossible to visit during the preceding days.
With the crowds thinning, the local residents felt a sense of relief as things finally began to calm down.
Meanwhile, Lucy and Beatrice strolled through Ghesmbourg, happy and at ease; they were now able to visit several spots that had been inaccessible to them over the first four days.
"The first four days of the festival flew by in a flash, didn't they, Beatrice?"
Lucy's tone was brimming with joy.
She glanced at Beatrice, who was busy eating a piece of a very old-fashioned confection—a treat rumored to have been first prepared by Alessandra millions of years ago, with the recipe recorded in her diary long before it became widely known centuries later.
Between bites, Beatrice replied:
"You're right; it's a perfect day for a stroll. So, where shall we head, now that things have quieted down a bit?"
Lucy paused for a few seconds before speaking with excitement—all the while making a failed attempt to snatch a piece of the treat from Beatrice, who shot her a look that could kill.
"How about we head to the Yang and Yin Garden? I've heard it's become even more beautiful than it used to be." Beatrice paid little mind to her own excitement as she nibbled on the sweet Tom had given her—ostensibly because someone else wanted her to try it, though she knew—thanks to her unique, true eyes—that Tom was merely acting as a messenger.
The identity of the person who had requested this gift weighed on her mind, especially since the flavor was vastly different from anything one could buy in a shop.
The taste was hauntingly familiar, as if she had once received such a treat from that very person—yet she had no idea who it might be. As far as she could recall, the only food that had ever radiated such warmth was the kind prepared by Yuta—a man whose ability to craft dishes that stirred the heart left her utterly bewildered, further fueling her suspicions about his past.
In a quiet, measured tone, she spoke:
"Do you remember Yuta saying he promised Grandfather Roswaal he would look after me?"
Lucy looked at her, puzzled—her expression still tinged with a faint, lingering irritation from the earlier murderous intent—before nodding in agreement.
Beatrice's gaze grew inscrutable as she continued:
"There's something that doesn't add up—how Yuta met my grandfather, when it happened, and why he was asked to take care of me."
"When you look at the big picture, none of it makes any sense. A child—whether five, six, or even ten years old—taking on the responsibility of caring for a complete stranger, especially someone they'd only met a day or two prior? It's impossible." Lucy said nothing; her expression remained one of shock as she gazed at her companion. She rubbed her face and took a deep breath to steady herself.
"I honestly don't know. Yuta is such a strange person. Even though he can be cruel and is willing to do anything to serve his own interests, there's something about him—something I still can't quite grasp. He possesses a presence—even when he's asleep—that radiates comfort and serenity. It's as if you're standing before a just emperor, with every fiber of his being imbued with a sacred energy."
Silence reigned for several seconds before Beatrice spoke:
"In truth, he does possess an energy akin to sacred power throughout his entire body—to the point that even his blood and his tears are golden."
Lucy turned her gaze sharply toward Beatrice, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in close—so close that Beatrice pulled back.
Beatrice continued:
"Lucy, you really are a fool, aren't you? I know Yuta has never appeared wounded in front of us, but thanks to my true eyes, I can see his blood—and it radiates an energy that resembles sacred power. Regardless, don't dwell on it; what matters is that we make the most of these beautiful, peaceful days."
"Next year, we'll be at the Celestial Immortals Academy—in an entirely different world, governed by different laws and concepts. I've heard that masters of the Demonic Path are both numerous and daring there, given that it is a world dedicated solely to cultivation."
"It's quite unlike our own world—especially when it comes to the 'Master of Demonic Arts,' or whatever he's called. So, prepare yourself well; being the daughter of Duke Balgord Ketali won't count for much there." Lucy said nothing; she was well aware that her status was confined solely to her own realm. At the same time, she knew they wouldn't go so far as to trigger a war—after all, she remained a prominent figure in her world, and insulting the students of the delegation would be tantamount to insulting their entire realm.
Furthermore, it was highly unlikely that the rulers of the human, dragon, underworld, celestial, and demonic realms would ever unite to fight them.
Lucy sighed once more. Beatrice's words had been a bitter truth that cast a shadow over the day's enjoyment. Deciding to leave the future to the future, she resolved simply to prepare—for who, knowing a storm is coming that cannot be stopped, would not prepare?
They continued on their way in silence, both sensing that this was far better than engaging in a conversation that might only leave one of them feeling despondent.
As they walked, Beatrice felt a woman's arms wrap around her neck, a cheek pressing against her own. Lucy, sensing that something unusual was unfolding, watched as Beatrice froze in place, showing no intention of moving.
Yet, a beautiful, warmth-filled smile—the likes of which Lucy had never seen on Beatrice before—led her to step back and let Beatrice go, allowing her to seek out her own happiness—wherever that might be, provided it was with Yuta.
As for Beatrice, who had been heading toward Versalkin Academy, the woman guided her toward a secluded spot, away from prying eyes.
On the ground lay an unconscious figure, a faint smile still lingering on his face. Standing nearby was a woman with long, white hair cascading down past her lower back and striking violet eyes, a gentle smile gracing her lips. She embraced Beatrice—who was clinging to her tightly, burying her face against her chest—a gesture that made the woman's smile grow even warmer, radiating unconditional love.
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The woman headed toward one of the many rooms, still dressed in elegant travel attire.
There stood a little girl, six years old, with gray hair and lead-colored eyes.
"My dear, how are you? It seems you've missed me."
The woman's voice was soft, filled with genuine affection.
The little girl ran toward the woman. She looked adorable—her silver dress, though ill-suited for running, only added to her angelic appearance—as she leaped toward her mother with a sincere, sweet smile.
"I missed you, Mother! You were gone for two years this time—that's just too long!"
There was a hint of mild annoyance in the child's tone.
Her mother let out a soft laugh, gazing down at Beatrice, who had buried her face against her chest.
"You're right; it has been a long absence, my dear. I shall accept whatever punishment you deem fit."
The mother loved the child dearly, even though she was not her biological daughter. She had discovered her in the void between ordinary worlds, encased within a womb-like chrysalis. The child's power was immense—on par with a Level 4 "Wing Master" or a being of the "Beyond-Existence" rank—and she had effortlessly crushed those of similar standing who tried to kill her the moment she was removed from the chrysalis.
For this reason, the mother had sealed the child's powers, bringing them down to her own level, fearing an attack by the guardians of the Tree of Existence or other entities of comparable strength.
A quarter of an hour later, the mother and her child were strolling through the palace's inner garden.
"A truly beautiful life, isn't it, my child?" The mother's tone was, as always, cheerful and joyful as she gazed down at the child resting—in a childlike manner—upon her stomach.
The little girl lifted her head to meet her mother's face:
"Yes, life is beautiful—with all its sweetness and bitterness, isn't it?"
The child's voice was innocent; her response reflected the joyful, happy world she perceived, for she had yet to encounter its bitterness or squalor—which was why she remained ever-cheerful and bright.
As the mother rose, the child tumbled to the ground. A look of annoyance crossed her face; she folded her arms and puffed out her cheeks.
With a faint smile, the mother scooped her up and settled her onto her lap, pulling her into an embrace:
"Come along, Beatrice—it seems it's time for lunch."
Her tone was calm and lovely, yet firm—leaving no room for argument.
"Fine. Let's head back to the manor."
There was a hint of irritation in the child's voice; she had wanted to wander the garden a bit longer with her mother, only to have that time cut short by the very person she was with.
Beatrice opened her eyes, gazing blankly up at the sky, while an overwhelming, inexplicable sense of happiness washed over her.
Even though she knew the girl was adopted—not the woman's biological daughter—the sight of that lady still filled her with joy.
She stood up and spotted Yuta asleep on a nearby tree trunk—evidently his chosen hideaway for a nap, though it looked more like a deep, unnatural slumber than a simple rest. She turned her gaze toward him, her eyes holding a hint of happiness—a remnant of the dream that had etched itself into her memory, much like those that had come before.
She watched him for a few seconds before gently tapping his forehead; for some reason, she felt like a child in his presence.
"Yuta, can you hear me? I'm talking to you."
Yuta did not respond to her call; he remained asleep, and she realized he was unconscious. Yet, she sensed that his physical strength had grown immensely, while his other attributes—speed, endurance, flexibility, and the like—had all but vanished.
Yuta began to open his eyes, very slowly, and looked at her. She felt his power surge in a strange way, even as she sensed that his very body was being consumed, bit by bit.
In a calm tone, she asked:
"Has laziness started boosting one's power level these days?"
Yuta held her gaze for a few moments before replying with a mocking tone:
"It boosts emotional levels, too—don't forget that."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face, only to be instantly replaced by her usual, icy composure—a reaction that drew a sly, inward smile from Yuta.
He shifted his position, studied her for a few seconds, and then spoke in a quiet, steady voice:
"What are you doing here, Beatrice Azwasen? This is my own private space within the Verselkin Academy."
"And, on another note—why did Alessandra and Zhao Li build an academy for humans, when they were the only humans in existence—even compared to all the other ordinary worlds?" Beatrice looked at him in bewilderment; to her, the question seemed utterly foolish and trivial:
"Versalkin was never meant to be an academy—it was intended to be a palace. The entire city of Ghasmbourg, in its entirety, served as a palace for both Zao Li and Alessandra; records even refer to it as the 'Palace of Knowledge.' But wait—why do you ask?"
Yuta remained silent for several seconds, gazing up at the sky before closing his eyes for a long moment.
"We live our lives without truly knowing where we are. Versalkin Academy is, in reality, a palace—and our world itself might be something else entirely. Yet, we have no way of knowing whether our own life stories are beautiful or tragic. It is like a rhythm that constantly fluctuates—sometimes quick, sometimes slow."
He then stood up, observing Beatrice—who seemed taken aback by his words—and spoke in a calm, measured tone:
"You know what? I heard from the Headmaster that some students from the Ghens Academy of Magic will be joining us here at the Celestial Immortals Academy."
Beatrice said nothing, trying to discern the intent behind Yuta's words. Unable to reach any conclusion, she decided to set the matter aside for the time being; there was still so much she did not know.
They left the area immediately, having finished their business in a place completely isolated from the rest of the world.
Upon returning to the grounds of Versalkin Academy—teeming with students, professors, and others—they found themselves the subject of suspicious glances. A young man and a young woman, alone together in a secluded spot—what could they possibly have been doing? "Isn't that the student Beatrice, along with Yuta Caseral—the one who killed Edward of the House of Brezic on the first day of the midterm exams? What is he doing with his classmate Beatrice? She is only twelve years old, while he is fifteen."
"Honestly, this kind of relationship is just filthy. Being alone in a secluded place with a girl—that only happens for one reason."
"I can't believe this generation has sunk to such a low level of morality and upbringing."
"Society is gradually sliding into corruption, isn't it?"
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As these whispers spread among the students, professors, and various other figures—both from within the Central Continent and beyond—Grey, Yoruichi, Armin, and Previka approached, wearing peculiar expressions.
Yuta glanced for a few seconds at the individuals making these remarks—comments he deemed trivial, annoying, and potentially a hindrance to his plans—before typing a message on his phone and sending it to everyone who had been speaking. (Phones are the most widespread means of communication, partly because they don't require recharging; they are powered by an internal 'mana core' that lasts an incredibly long time—consuming less than 0.1% of its energy per month.)
The message caused the individuals to fall silent, scramble to de-escalate the situation, or attempt to walk back their claims.
"Even so, that doesn't necessarily mean there's a romantic involvement. I've heard there are students who have been trying to uncover the secrets of Versalkin Academy for a long time now."
"Besides, Mr. Yuta Caseral is the head of a technology conglomerate—or whatever it's called—and he's a Baron, too. It's impossible that he would do something as foolish as this." "Beatrice is the daughter of the former Magic Emperor, Boswal Azwasen—a man of impeccable character. It is impossible for her to have done such a thing."
"Hahahaha! To level accusations against a young woman not even twenty years of age, based on nothing more than mere suspicion—how truly 'noble' and 'high-class' of these aristocrats and dignitaries to behave in such an immoral fashion."
Amidst the hypocrisy of the nobles, lords, and the elders of various sects and clans, a deep sense of regret—coupled with intense fury—began to fester over their decision to purchase these phones.
The elder of the Mount Shinai Sect spoke up, his voice laced with rage as he stared at a message on his device:
"That despicable scoundrel, Yuta Caseral—he certainly knows how to insult and threaten people."
[Yuta Caseral]
[If anyone fails to keep their mouth shut regarding matters that do not concern them—and fails to rectify their own foolishness—I shall release all personal photos (you know exactly what I mean) and recordings of sensitive calls within three minutes. Any attempt to discuss this message, or to cease the normal, continued use of the technological devices provided by my company, will result in the immediate disclosure of highly damaging information concerning Empress Junhars Junlvin and the entire common populace of the Revolutionaries.]
The message vanished from his phone automatically, fueling his rage even further. Ultimately, he—along with the other nobles, sect leaders, and clan heads—chose to comply. Most of the other races, accompanied by their respective monarchs, had departed the city of Ghasmburg on the second day for reasons that remained undisclosed. Only the Elven and Angelic Emperors, as well as the rulers of the High-born and the Dragons, had remained until the very last day. This left Grey, Yoruichi, Armin, and Privika bewildered by the turn of events—specifically, the way Yuta had insulted others and further tarnished both his own and Beatrice's already poor reputations.
They cast narrow-eyed, suspicious glances toward Yuta, who remained entirely indifferent to their scrutiny. They knew Yuta must have threatened someone; it was simply impossible for a person's behavior to shift so drastically in such a short span of time.
Nevertheless, they chose to remain silent, knowing Yuta wouldn't answer them anyway—they were long accustomed to the fact that his motives always remained shrouded in mystery.
Elsewhere, Beatrice watched him with an inscrutable expression. She said nothing, though she sensed something suddenly—a strange, inexplicable quality about her grandfather—though she couldn't yet put her finger on what it was.
In a calm, steady tone, she looked at him and said:
"Thank you, Yuta Caseral."
Yuta said nothing in return. He simply held her gaze for a few seconds before they both turned toward the Yang and Yin Garden, following a summons from Lucy, who had called for them regarding an urgent matter she hadn't yet disclosed.
Some time later, in the city of Gasemburg—bustling with both local residents and visitors from a multitude of races—
Yuta, Yoruichi, Grey, Beatrice, Privika, and Armin chatted amongst themselves as they made their way toward the Yang and Yin Garden.
"So, only 23 days left until the break—isn't that just wonderful? What are you all planning to do?"
Privika asked, her voice brimming with excitement as she looked toward the group. However, she was met with complete indifference; almost everyone was planning to keep their summer vacation activities as secret as possible.
Previca was no exception—she had plenty to do, and she deemed it unwise to speak of it. Still, she was curious about what the others had in store.
Yorichi spoke up, looking toward Armin with a puzzled expression:
"That's strange. Seok has been gone for an entire day. The last time I saw him was on the third day; I haven't laid eyes on him since."
Armin and Grey both turned to him, looking bewildered—wondering if he was joking or being serious.
Grey replied, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm:
"Haven't you checked your phone? He told us he's gone into seclusion to 'break through.' After all, he's a 'Cursed One'—his power grows through killing, or so I heard from the high-ranking masters who left our ordinary world."
Yorichi said nothing, yet he sensed that something was off. Seok had already ascended to the rank of 'Saint,' and beyond that, he had unlocked a hidden rank: 'Combatant.'
Moreover, given that he was half-human and half-entity—hailing from another world governed by entirely different laws and concepts—Yorichi realized that the rules of their current world didn't apply to him in the same way, while the laws of his original world still held sway. In that light, the fact that he had managed to 'break through' multiple times in such a short span actually made perfect sense.