On Sunday, June 28, 675, at the Versalkin Academy, Grey and Yorichi were packing their belongings to return to the main estate of the Duchy of De Molière.
A great deal of time had passed since they had left their family estate—nearly an entire year, from September 1, 674, to June 30, 675.
They had spent ten months in the city of Gasemburg, six of which were dedicated to their studies at the Versalkin Academy.
Grey let out a deep sigh as he stowed his belongings into his bag. Yorichi assisted him; it was a tradition within the Duchy of De Molière for its scions to be self-reliant—a practice upheld by every generation since the family's founding.
"These days have been incredibly demanding, yet wonderful all the same. Still, Yorichi, you must grow stronger; you are currently only at the Saint rank. I take no pride in having reached the Novice Ruler rank myself—I want you to become even stronger."
Grey's tone carried a heavy weight of counsel, which Yorichi clearly understood.
Yet, he felt no resentment; he simply accepted the reality of the situation. Armin had attained the Expert Ruler rank—and, furthermore, had unlocked a hidden rank, "Worthy"—while Siwok had ascended through several ranks in a short span to also become an Expert Ruler. As for Jian Yi, he had reached the rank of Sacred Ruler. As for Tom, Yuta, Beatrice, and Gia, they remained so far ahead of him that he couldn't even gauge the true extent of the gap between them. Yet, his desire to grow stronger intensified with each passing day; the next five months would be the period in which he would undergo his full evolution.
Yorichi spoke with enthusiasm as he gathered Grey's belongings:
"Don't worry—I'll be much stronger than I am now. In five months, I'm going to kick your ass just to show you how much I've improved."
Grey glanced at him, looking slightly annoyed for a few seconds, then burst into laughter as he zipped up his bag and stowed it away into his personal dimensional space.
His expression shifted, carrying a faint trace of sadness as he recalled the hardships and calamities of the past five months.
"Still, I was terrified. I've never been as afraid in my life as I was on Jigwa Island, during the battle for Yuspeakers City, and on that day when I thought I'd lose my childhood friend. Even though there's no romantic love between us, I've always thought of her—and Beatrice, too—as my own sisters."
Yorichi narrowed his eyes, studying him for a few moments before a mischievous grin spread across his face.
"Be honest—you *did* love her, didn't you? But once you found out about her relationship with Yuta, you stopped—right?"
Grey shot him a look of clear irritation, then reached for an empty bag. "I don't love her. There's another girl I see in those strange dreams. Since I've seen you, Lucy, Jian Yi, Armin, and Tom—which proves you're all real—then that girl must be real, too. And because of that, she is the one I'm going to marry."
Yorichi stared at him with contempt for a few seconds before striking him with a wind spell. Grey was caught off guard for a moment, but quickly retaliated by hurling a fire spell toward Yorichi's face—leaving Yorichi momentarily stunned before he managed to dodge it.
Pointing a finger at him, Yorichi spoke in a tone thick with rage:
"Why did you do that, you wretched scoundrel? You're in love with a girl you saw in a dream? Have you lost your mind ever since that incident back on Jeju Island?"
Grey retorted with even greater fury, a jade-green aura radiating from his body:
"These are memories—visions of the past, you fool! And the people in them are all real—do you understand? She is real, whether you like it or not!"
Yorichi, viewing Grey as nothing more than a pathetic, low-tier romantic, remained entirely unimpressed. He simply went back to his work, ignoring him—fearing that such a cheap, lovesick affliction might actually be contagious.
---
Elsewhere, just outside the walls of the city of Gasemburg, Yuta was training Jian Yi, as he usually did.
"Jian, get ready. The second exercise is about to begin. Do push-ups with the cube balanced on your back."
Yuta's voice remained calm as he watched Jian Yi, who was already positioned for the push-ups. A cube fell onto his back, making it momentarily difficult for Jian Yi to carry it. He then spoke with enthusiasm as he pushed himself up:
"I'm ready! 1—2—3!"
Yuta watched him with an inscrutable expression. Several minutes passed without Yuta saying a single word, leaving Jian Yi feeling somewhat bewildered.
Breaking the silence, Yuta caught a leaf that was drifting toward the ground.
"You want to know why I was with the last 'Ranked Venerable,' Ping Tao Xin, at a branch center of the Mount Hua Sect—don't you, Jian Yi?"
Jian Yi remained silent for a few seconds, recalling that day—and, with it, his mother's final words before she returned to the realm of the dead:
"I'm sorry, my dear Jian Yi, but I cannot stay with you. I am truly sorry—but death is death. Still, if you become stronger, perhaps you might be able to bring me back. Hahahaha!"
A faint smile touched Jian Yi's lips as he gazed at the ground while continuing his push-ups. In a tone filled with both calm and determination, he said:
"I don't care what you were doing. I realized something during the festival: you don't have to make everyone like you. As for me—fighting the last 'Ranked Venerable,' Ping Tao Xin, for the sake of someone who couldn't care less whether I exist or not? That's just foolish. I have no desire to involve myself in something that has nothing to do with me." Yuta looked at him with slight shock; he hadn't expected to hear such words from Jian Yi—a man who held the honor of his clan in such high regard—realizing then that the encounter with his mother had left a profound impact on him.
Deciding to shift the subject, Yuta sliced the cube into fine dust using a single sheet of paper—an object possessing infinite weight, hardness, and durability—as if it were nothing more than a block of butter. Jian Yi stood stunned for several seconds, having struggled in vain to destroy that very cube ever since he began his training under Yuta.
"What are your plans for the upcoming break?"
Yuta's tone remained calm as he watched Jian Yi, who stood up and brushed the dust from his clothes.
Jian Yi remained silent for a few moments before speaking, his voice filled with determination:
"I'm returning to the Mount Hua Sect, accompanied by Tom, Seok, and his companion, Hinataku. I intend to further hone my abilities; I suspect that a breakthrough isn't on the horizon just yet."
Yuta rose from his seat, turning a green leaf into a fine mist before tossing it into the air. With a faint smile, he placed a hand on Jian Yi's shoulder and said:
"That's good. You need to refine it further. You've grown stronger in a short amount of time, but you must hone your skills to fully realize your potential before breaking through to the next rank. A long path is better than a short one; the person who knows how to build a road is not the same as someone who simply walks along a path already laid out for them."
Jian Yi nodded in agreement as he listened to Yuta Caseral. With that, Yuta departed, declaring the lesson over—at which point Jian Yi collapsed, overcome by sheer exhaustion and fatigue.
He couldn't even twitch a finger; despite being a Sacred Sovereign, the training remained brutal. Although he had felt discouraged early on—perceiving no progress—the intensity remained unyielding, leaving him utterly spent by the end of every session.
Yet, after weeks of this, he came to realize that true training must always be grueling. If things feel easy, you aren't truly training—you're merely wasting your time.
With great difficulty, he managed to drink a healing potion; his hands trembled pitifully as he held the vial.
Feeling a wave of relief wash over him, he stood up immediately and stretched his body.
"Fantastic! Today's training was invigorating. Still, there are only two days left before our time at the Farsalkin Academy comes to an end." Jian Yi's tone was filled with anticipation for what the next five months would bring.
He headed into the city of Ghesmbourg, a warm smile gracing his face. He had finally found a purpose in life: to grow stronger and, ultimately, to bring his mother back from the dead.
Yet, his ambitions were not merely short-term; he harbored far greater goals for the distant future—goals for which strength would be the essential key.
---
Elsewhere, Beatrice sat reading a book that had belonged to her grandfather, Boswal. Her thoughts drifted back to her encounter at his grave with Kingston—the last of the "Smiling Ones"—who had left poisonous flowers upon the headstone.
Though she could not fathom his true intent, the confident and unpredictable manner in which he spoke led her to suspect that his supposed death was, in fact, a ruse.
More than anything, however, her mind was occupied by her grandfather, Boswal. Over the past few days, a growing sense of doubt had taken root. He had treated her with great affection ever since she revealed her power—yet, throughout the time she spent with him, he had never once made an effort to improve her public reputation.
This left her questioning his true motives for drawing her so close. Her grandfather had been a renowned mage—the first commoner of his era to be granted the title "Magic Emperor"—a feat that had elevated the Azwasen family from commoner origins to the ranks of the nobility. She set the book aside with a deep, exasperated sigh, rubbing her face as if trying to clear her mind. Her voice, heavy with the state of her own psyche, rang out:
"What the hell is going on in this world?"
She turned her gaze toward Lucy—who was stirring, clearly annoyed—and delivered a sharp slap to the back of her head.
Lucy's head snapped up in shock. Clutching the back of her head in pain, she glared at Beatrice:
"You vile, wretched, despicable piece of trash! Why did you do that?!"
Beatrice, however, paid her no mind. She rose from her seat and returned the book to its designated shelf—an act that only fueled Lucy's fury, as Beatrice's persistent indifference felt like a deliberate slight.
Then, in a tone so calm it left Lucy bewildered—caught off guard by the sudden shift to such a grave subject—Beatrice spoke:
"Could it be that my grandfather, Boswall, has been using me all this time? Could he still be alive—and is he the one who caused all these problems, turning me into one of the most hated figures in the world?"
Lucy remained silent, unable to find the right words to respond. Should she agree—further tarnishing Boswall's already wretched reputation? Or should she deny it—lying to her, only to ensure that the shock would be all the more devastating when it eventually came to light that Boswall truly was the architect of all her suffering? Taking a deep breath, she spoke in a calm, empathetic tone, attempting to alleviate Beatrice's despondency:
"I cannot answer such a sensitive question; however, in either case, I am someone you can always turn to—someone with whom you can cry as much as you like."
"I never expected such mature words from someone like you. You've been acting quite strangely lately. Are you truly Lucy Kethali—daughter of Belgurd Kethali—or some wretch masquerading as her? Then again, having you here isn't all that bad. Who would have thought that an imitation could turn out better than the original?"
Lucy's expression soured as she listened to Beatrice's words, which she found deeply insulting. Yet, as Beatrice continued, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Lucy's lips—one she tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal.
"Still, I thank you for staying by my side all these years; that is something I shall not soon forget."
Lucy let out a sigh, her joy barely contained, as she gazed at Beatrice. She then rose from her seat and stretched, preparing to leave the library.
"We've spent quite a long time in here, haven't we? It's high time we took our leave."
Beatrice nodded in agreement, busying herself with returning the books to their proper places—a level of fastidious organization that only served to annoy Lucy, who felt such tasks should be left to the librarian.
A few moments later, Beatrice approached her, completely unfazed by Lucy's indignant glares. The two then made their way out of the library, remaining silent in accordance with the facility's rules. A few minutes later, the two had left the library and were wandering through the academy grounds, which were nearly devoid of students—hardly surprising, given that it was the final stretch of the term, and the final examinations had already begun a day earlier.
In recognition of their participation in the battle against the Scorpion Organization on Jigwa Island, as well as their fight against the Goblin Ruler, Cavlior, in the city of Yusbikers, the Versalkin Academy granted them an exemption from the final examinations.
It was ultimately canceled for students in the combat specialization, as every single one of them refused to participate—fearing another catastrophe. Having already narrowly escaped death twice, none of them possessed the courage to face it a third time.
With many students having long since departed Gasmburg to return home and spend time with their families, the academy grounds were nearly deserted, making it quite pleasant for the two of them to wander around.
"How about we visit the Kathali family estate in the capital of the Human Empire? You'd find plenty of information about your grandfather, Boswal—that's his birthplace, after all."
Lucy's tone was brimming with joy and excitement as she looked toward her companion.
Beatrice studied her with a suspicious gaze for several moments before speaking:
"Let me guess—you thought I'd ask Yuta to accompany me to the city of Berhais, didn't you?"
Signs of nervousness flickered across Lucy's face as she quickly looked away. Beatrice narrowed her eyes, a gesture that only served to make Lucy even more uneasy.
Exhaling a long, sharp breath, Lucy finally replied:
"Well... yes, you're right. I thought you might ask Yuta to go with you. I heard he has two sisters—Sera and Lera—and that there's some sort of connection between you all, isn't there?"
Beatrice let out an annoyed sigh, her gaze shifting toward the meeting hall where the rankings for the top students in their specialization were posted. Although she held the second-place position—ranking fourth in intelligence and second in combat, largely because she had not yet revealed her true capabilities—she was well aware that she stood no chance of wresting the top spot from Yuta.
Speaking in a calm tone that nonetheless carried an undercurrent of annoyance—which Lucy easily detected—she said:
"No, I was planning to head to my grandfather Boswall's hometown to find out who he truly was."
Lucy gazed at her for a few moments before gently patting her on the head—a gesture that left the other girl visibly irritated, especially given that Lucy was two years her senior and taller to boot.
She swatted Lucy's hand away, prompting a mocking laugh from the older girl, who then quickly shifted the subject, wary of any potential retaliation from Beatrice.
"That aside, I want to ask you something. What would you do if you discovered that Boswall had actually been using you? How would you react? Between ignorance and knowledge lies a barrier—the barrier of acceptance."
Lucy's tone was serious as she cast a glance around her.
Beatrice, however, found no answer to Lucy's question. What would she do once the truth came to light? Would she curl up in a corner, waiting for someone else to pull her into a warm, loving embrace—or would she face the reality head-on?
There was another path—one that seemed far better than waiting for someone else's help. Relying on others would not lead to growth; it would only keep her stagnant, exactly as she was.
Yet, these were merely human musings—possibilities that might or might not come to pass. When the right moment arrived, she would decide for herself what to do, rather than simply choosing the option that merely seemed "good" at the time. "I honestly don't know if my grandfather, Boswal, is the reason behind everything that's happened to me—the mistreatment by my own family, or the accusations leveled against me, including the murder of the Azwasen family. If he is, then I'll kill him—provided his 'death' wasn't just another lie, too."
"My life belongs to no one—not a soul. Anyone who tries to turn me into a puppet—be it Boswal, Yuta, or anyone else—I will kill them."
Lucy's expression held a flicker of shock as she listened to Beatrice. Despite the many accusations against her, Lucy was certain of one thing: she hadn't earned the title 'Demonic Angel' for nothing. She possessed terrifying talent and power—she was, after all, the most gifted individual in human history.
Furthermore, the fact that she could easily battle the Goblin Ruler, Cavlior, and match the strength of Gia Guilford—even while using only her secondary wing—was proof of her truly formidable power.
Beatrice found Lucy's shocked gaze—which shifted to mere bewilderment after a few seconds—quite irritating.
"Besides, are you trying to make me a widow before I've even gotten married? Not only are you insisting that there's some sort of romantic connection between us, but you're also threatening to kill him! How incredibly annoying, Beatrice Azwasen. If you're so set on killing someone, go kill that senile old man, Boswal."
Beatrice continued to listen to Lucy's empty, threatening words, then chose to ignore her entirely; the words themselves were even more grating than the look on her face. "Fine, fine. Still, Yuta isn't exactly a good person, and you know that. There's a lot of hidden stuff surrounding him—things that should make you wary. It's best not to trust him completely."
Lucy rolled her eyes in annoyance. She knew full well that Yuta wasn't someone to be trusted easily, yet she found herself fond of him nonetheless.
Although she had initially loathed him, he had saved her from Aspherus—and from the people who had kidnapped her because of her pact with the Ruler of Time. He had also intervened when Achilles tried to assassinate her, and when Balgurd threatened her life. All of this happened during a period when she was unable to function as a mage due to a heart condition.
That was why she loved him—or at least, that's what she tried to convince herself. In truth, she didn't rely on Yuta's help; she preferred to depend on herself, striving to grow and become stronger. Furthermore, she cherished him because she wanted to build a family—to have a strong person by her side to protect her. She wasn't looking for a perfect, romantic fairy-tale life; she just wanted something reasonably good.
Changing the subject, Lucy said:
"How about we head to the academy's dining hall to grab a bite? I'm absolutely starving."
Beatrice said nothing, but her expression made it clear she agreed—she was in the mood for something cold to eat.