Mia was treating students while chatting with them. A new student called out. Her green-white hair stood out vividly in the dim yellow sunset light. Mia’s voice was gentle as she turned to respond to a shy newcomer behind her.
“Oh, don’t push. Take your time, everyone will get their turn.”
As she turned, her wide pockets swayed. Even with the thick fabric covering, the heavy fullness still curved with her movements, as if gravity itself favored her. The students needing treatment formed an orderly queue in front of her. Several senior female students blushed as they dutifully maintained order and passed potions, just to earn a sweet smile from Mia.
“We’re both Candidate Saintesses…”
Mahina crossed her arms, her gaze shifting between the crowd-pleasing Mia in the distance and the solitary Lucia beside her.
“And yet Mia, who only arrived as a new student a few days ago, is already so popular.”
Lucia didn’t retort, only let out a heavy snort through her nose.
“Hmph.”
But it wasn’t the first time staring at Mia. Finding surface-level issues was still somewhat difficult. Gradually, a sense of discomfort rose in Mahina’s heart.
“Something’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Lucia asked casually.
“Almost none from the Magic Department. They’re all from the Swordsmanship and Alchemy Departments.” Anyway, Lucia wouldn’t care about these things; she probably only recognizes Swordsmanship students. Mahina didn’t drag it out.
“Lady Saintess… lately, I don’t know why, but even though my wounds have healed, I always feel weak and lack energy…” the student receiving treatment said weakly.
Mia stopped her movements, then revealed a face full of tolerance and tenderness, leaning forward slightly.
“Poor child… The academy’s curriculum is too heavy, isn’t it? Treating here is too hasty; I can’t fully regulate your condition. If you’d like, you can come find me at the larger church in City West another day. Whether it’s physical exhaustion or worries in your heart… I can slowly listen to your troubles.”
Then, the topic quickly shifted.
“Mhm, it’s not your fault for not having magic power. Everyone can find their own strengths.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“Good afternoon, Mia.”
“Good afternoon, Your Highness Lucia.”
Before Lucia could continue questioning, Mia directly came in with a chest bump. Mia flung herself forward as if meeting a long-lost relative. The shocking impact, accompanied by suffocating softness, instantly blocked Lucia’s mouth from further questioning and shattered her dignity.
“Hey! What are you doing!”
“Ah… sorry, I missed you a bit too much.”
Mia finally let go, her face slightly flushed with shyness. This hug directly shattered the slightly tense atmosphere around. The surrounding students, watching this scene, all showed moved expressions in their eyes. Under this warm gaze, Lucia’s hand, frozen in midair, clenched into a fist awkwardly.
‘I’m done. She really grossed me out. Now it’s fine. Even if I want to pick a fight, speaking up under this atmosphere would make me look like a heartless villain. This is definitely hostility… this scheming witch.’
Suddenly, the crowds both near and far became agitated. Mia’s expression suddenly turned excited. She quickly turned her head, then glanced at Lucia. And the huge centrifugal force of Mia’s wide pockets, along with the weight itself, swung and slammed heavily into Lucia again with the inertia of her turn.
Thump.
A dull sound.
‘I’m done… Not satisfied with a chest bump, now she’s hitting me with it too. Is this also hostile? Does she think I’m not that big? She didn’t really care about that point, since for a swordsman, it’s not good for fighting anyway. Mia just likes to use this to pick on her… I’m done. If she’d just pick a fight with words, then Lucia could directly curse her out. But she hits me with the ‘ball.’ If Lucia showed an upset expression, wouldn’t it really make it seem like she cares about size?’
However, before Lucia could finish cursing in her heart, a cold premonition crawled up her spine, making her body, which had been stiff with anger, suddenly sober up. The surroundings were too quiet. Following everyone’s gaze, Lucia slowly shifted her perspective and looked toward the source of the commotion. The afterglow of the setting sun spread a carpet on the stone path of the courtyard, and at the end of the light, a figure was slowly walking over. Lucia’s pupils, which had been scattered with helplessness, refocused the moment she recognized the person, then slowly widened.
It’s Helena.
Empress of the Amber Empire.
The former Saintess of the Holy Kingdom, and still the central figure of the Holy Kingdom today.
How long has it been since Lucia saw her? Three years? Five? Her memory blurred at that moment, leaving only the figure continually magnifying on her retina. At least five years in her memory, anyway.
A voice as gentle and delicate as silk spread across the courtyard. The crowd automatically parted a path, and everyone lowered their heads.
“This is a campus, so don’t bring the trivial courtesies of the outside into the place of learning. Please forget those unnecessary formalities. I am just a visiting tourist.”
The sound reached everyone’s ears clearly. After all, even though she retired from the position of Saintess, in the hearts of the people, Helena is still the Saintess. After all, the position of Saintess is vacant now, and most of the Saintess’s duties are still handled by Helena. Just standing there, the innate sense of holiness she emitted was enough to make the approachability Mia had deliberately created seem thin. The only difference, perhaps, was that after marrying the Emperor, except for special occasions, she no longer wore the Church’s attire. For example, now, as the former Saintess and current Empress, she was wearing a pure white one-piece dress.
Helena was walking against the light. Her silver long hair glistened in the sunset, radiating a divine brilliance. Like Lucia, she had the iconic silver hair and gray eyes. Her gray eyes were clear to the bottom, her features small and delicate, like a porcelain doll carved by God’s own hands. But unlike her daughter Lucia’s youthful maiden aura, Helena carried a mellow fragrance aged by time. It was a mature charm unique to married women, like a fully ripe peach—plump and juicy. Every line of her body exuded the charm of an Empress. Maturity did not diminish her holiness; instead, it made her beauty undeniable. She was wearing a pure white dress.