The courtyard was a sanctuary of ancient stone and vibrant greenery, a place where time seemed to slow. As Ekaterina materialized within it, the shift in atmosphere was palpable – a subtle coolness replacing the lingering warmth of the garden she'd just left.
Master Jax, a figure radiating an almost unsettling calm, stood waiting. His eyes, ancient and knowing, crinkled slightly as he shook his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He reached out and playfully tugged on her ear, a gesture that belied his immense power.
"Little troublemaker," he rumbled, his voice like the rustling of autumn leaves.
"Drinking all my prized liquor again, huh?"
Ekaterina blinked slowly, her movements deliberate and graceful.
It was a carefully controlled reaction, a subtle shift in her expression that hinted at a vulnerability she rarely allowed to surface. The blindfold ribbon remained perfectly in place, concealing the depths of her eyes, but the faintest tremor seemed to run through her delicate features.
The sky above them responded instantly. A playful sunbeam that had been warming the courtyard vanished, replaced by a gathering of clouds that swirled with an unnatural speed. A low rumble echoed in the distance, a subtle warning of the power contained within her. But the change was fleeting; the storm never fully materialized. It dissipated as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind only a gentle breeze and a sky tinged with an ethereal silver light.
The absence of a full-blown weather event meant no heavenly punishment, no misfortune to befall her—a silent testament to her control and resilience.
"My dear disciple," Master Jax continued, his voice regaining its usual gravitas.
"You seem to spend your days drinking, sleeping, and eating. This master wishes to impart something of importance to you."
Ekaterina turned her head slightly, her movements fluid and silent. She didn't need to see to perceive the shift in his demeanor, the subtle tightening of his jaw, the intensity that burned in his ancient eyes. She was intimately familiar with his moods, having spent years under his tutelage.
She was a paradox - a prodigy of unimaginable power who had mastered countless disciplines, yet possessed an almost childlike innocence when it came to the world outside her secluded training. Seventeen years old, and already a force to be reckoned with. Seventeen masters had guided her along a path of unparalleled growth, shaping her into the enigmatic figure she was today.
And she wasn't alone. She commanded a legion of 205 disciples – orphans and lost souls she'd rescued from the harsh realities of the world – each one carefully nurtured and guided by her hand.
Her influence didn't end there. Across the globe, she had over 10,600 senior brothers and sisters – powerful individuals who revered her, showering her with affection and protection. They were a silent shield, guarding her from the prying eyes of the world and ensuring her continued growth. Yet, she remained blissfully unaware of the extent of their power, shielded from the complexities and dangers that lay beyond the tranquil mountains and the nearby village she called home.
It was a carefully constructed bubble, woven by those who loved and protected her. A bubble that allowed her to focus on her training, on nurturing her disciples, and on building something truly extraordinary: The Interstellar Star Academy.
Founded when she was just seven years old, the Academy was a beacon of hope for children who needed guidance, training, and a place to discover their own unique paths.
The Academy, now ten years old, was shrouded in mystery and whispered about with reverence. It was a place where the lost and forgotten could find purpose, where hidden talents could blossom, and where the boundaries of possibility were constantly being pushed. Yet, Ekaterina herself had little to do with its day-to-day operations.
She had established the foundation, instilled her principles, and then gracefully stepped back, trusting in the capable hands of her senior brothers and sisters to manage its growth.
"Master, what is the matter?" Ekaterina asked, tilting her head slightly. A faint blush dusted her cheeks. "Master, you aren't dying, are you?" She fanned herself dramatically with a hand adorned with delicate silver rings, a gesture that seemed incongruous with her otherwise composed demeanor.
Master Jax let out a dry chuckle, the sound echoing through the courtyard.
"You brat! Forget it. You must return back to the city. I did a divination calculation—your mother is remarried as of a week ago."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. Ekaterina's expression didn't change outwardly, but a subtle stillness settled over her. Her mother… remarried. The memory surfaced from the depths of her past life – a pivotal moment that had irrevocably altered the course of her existence.
It was around this time, in her previous life, that her mother had married into the prestigious Marchetti Family.
Hudson Kingston Marchetti, forty-three years old, patriarch of the first branch of the Marchetti empire – a man known for his ruthless ambition and icy demeanor.
Phoenix, Ekaterina's mother, was forty years old, a woman of striking beauty and quiet strength who had endured unimaginable loss. Hudson already had eight sons from his previous marriage, a legacy of wealth and power that stretched back generations.
His first wife's death, occurring shortly after the birth of twins, had left him a widower for eighteen long years.
The news of his remarriage just a month ago had sent shockwaves through high society, the wedding itself described as a fairytale spectacle – a lavish display of wealth and power designed to solidify Hudson's position at the apex of the Marchetti empire.
As for the Wilson Family… Ekaterina remembered it vividly. In her previous life, each of the five brothers and their father had been given the choice to remain with their father or to follow their mother.
The five Wilson brothers, fueled by a desperate desire for power and recognition, had all chosen to remain with their father. Natasha, her sister, however, had been a different story. A creature of vanity and entitlement, driven by an insatiable hunger for status and adoration.
Natasha had chosen to go with their mother to the Marchetti Family, believing it would propel her to even greater heights of influence and wealth.
But that ambition had ultimately backfired. Natasha's constant complaints about her eight stepbrothers, elders, aunts, uncles, and cousins had become a tiresome refrain in the Marchetti household. She'd been perpetually resentful of their power and privilege, forever feeling like an outsider looking in.
Over those ten years of her previous life, Ekaterina had meticulously orchestrated the Wilson Family's rise to global dominance, transforming them into a financial powerhouse with countless companies under their name.
But the fruits of her labor had been twisted and perverted by Natasha's greed. The very people she'd helped elevate—the five brothers and their father—had turned on her, their affection curdling into venomous betrayal.
They'd poisoned her, strangled her, and ultimately framed her for starting a fire that claimed her life. All because they favored Natasha, showering her with everything she desired while simultaneously plotting her demise.
Ekaterina let out a slow, deliberate sigh, the sound barely audible above the rustling leaves. She tapped her fingers in rhythmic pattern, unconsciously performing a quick divination calculation.
The divination shimmered in her mind, a cascade of swirling images and fleeting probabilities. It confirmed her suspicions: Natasha had also been reborn. And, unlike in their previous life, she had chosen to remain with the Wilson Family. A flicker of something akin to morbid curiosity sparked within Ekaterina. This time, things would be different. She wouldn't be playing the role of the dutiful daughter, sacrificing everything for the sake of a family that ultimately sought to destroy her.
Her gaze drifted to a small, rotund figure nestled at her feet. Tun Tun, her pet fox, was a creature of exquisite contradictions. Its fur was a soft, almost ethereal blend of white and purple, its eyes glowing with an unsettling crimson intensity.