Three days later
The Duke of Connalt’s carriage traveled along the wide official road leading to the Imperial Capital.
Sherivelle could initially catch occasional glimpses of that familiar black figure through the carriage window.
He always appeared neither too far nor too close, sometimes crouching on the roof of the accompanying luggage wagon, or leaping lightly onto a slightly higher branch by the roadside.
Yet, he never spared her a single glance.
However, as the journey continued,
The Black Cat maintained a distance that seemed almost deliberate. He was no longer like he had been in Erna Village where, despite his aloofness, he would occasionally give a reluctant response.
Now, he “ignored” her completely.
Sherivelle had tried. During a mid-journey break for the convoy, she had Anna help her out of the carriage and walked toward the Black Cat sitting in the shade of a tree not far away.
But before she could get close, the Black Cat would sense her in advance, silently disappearing into deeper grass or jumping onto a higher rock, leaving her with only the sight of his rapidly vanishing back.
Standing by the carriage, she called out softly in the direction he might appear: “Mimi? Come here…” Her voice sounded small and weak on the open roadside. There was no response, not even a backward glance.
Once, she stared at him stubbornly for a long time, her red eyes clearly reflecting the Black Cat’s indifferent back.
He, however, was crouching on a stone, intently licking his paws as if everything around him, including her—his once closest companion—had become irrelevant background noise.
A strange yet familiar emotion suddenly surged from the depths of Sherivelle’s heart.
She turned abruptly and climbed into the carriage, slamming the window shut with a soft “thud.”
Old Anna was startled and hurriedly asked, “Miss? What’s wrong? Are you tired?”
Sherivelle didn’t answer. She hugged her knees and buried her face in her arms.
Her chest felt terribly tight, something churning inside.
Sherivelle was angry.
So mean, he won’t even look at her now.
“He… is mean.” A clear but sobbing syllable came muffled from her arms.
Sherivelle felt miserable, so she decided to be angry to calm down.
Old Anna froze. She looked at the Black Cat with his back turned in the distance, then at the sulking Sherivelle.
Then Old Anna understood something, her heart filled with a mixture of emotions.
She gently patted Sherivelle’s back, coaxing her softly, “Don’t be sad, Miss. Once we reach the Imperial Capital and settle down…”
“No!”
Sherivelle suddenly looked up, her eyes red, but not from crying. “He’s ignoring me! I hate him!”
She was “proclaiming” an emotion; the Miss was actually angry!
Watching the Miss trembling slightly with rage yet appearing exceptionally vivid, Anna felt a pang of heartache but also a trace of relief.
A Miss who could get angry was more like a real person than the one who used to hollowly accept everything.
Having vented her feelings, Sherivelle seemed to have exhausted her energy and slumped back down.
She no longer deliberately looked for the Black Cat outside the carriage. She only stole occasional glances out the window, and if she saw that black figure, she would immediately turn away and purse her lips, expressing her “dissatisfaction” and “resolve” through her actions.
She had decided! Unless he took the initiative to look back at her, she wouldn’t talk to him for a whole day… no, for a whole hour!
***
While Sherivelle was rediscovering her anger, Ian, who was following the map provided by the Duke and heading toward the Tower of Stars, saw a violent jump in Sherivelle’s Correction Degree on the System Panel.
The original value of 82% surged upward, breaking through a key threshold and coming to a steady stop at 90%.
“Woohoo! The System truly didn’t deceive me!”
This unprovoked rise in the Correction value made Ian even more convinced that the System’s conclusion was correct. While marveling at how amazing the “protagonist” was, he arrived at a valley that seemed specially favored by the Stars.
This was the location marked on the map, ‘Silent Lake’.
‘Silent Lake’ was like a giant mirror, tranquil and beautiful.
On the summit of a solitary peak on the western side of the lake stood a high tower built entirely of some kind of silver-white stone.
The tower’s body was not vertical but extended upward with a wonderful spiral curvature, its top disappearing into the perpetual mist. The surface of the tower was inlaid with countless tiny crystals like stars, flowing with a dreamlike luster under the sunlight.
This was the residence of the “Stargazer” Marguerite—the Tower of Stars.
However, the mountain path leading to the Tower of Stars was not empty.
On an open space some distance from the foot of the mountain, there were actually twenty or thirty people gathered.
They were dressed differently—some magnificently, some simply—but most bore the dust of long-distance travel, their faces a mix of anticipation, nervousness, and reluctance.
They stood in small groups, conversing in low voices, their eyes frequently darting toward the path leading to the solitary peak, which was shrouded in a faint magical glow, and the closed stone door carved with complex star maps at the end of the path.
Ian’s arrival caught the attention of some people.
He looked too young, dressed plainly, and had no conspicuous magical accessories or powerful mana emanating from him. Aside from his handsome features, he seemed somewhat out of place compared to the surrounding people who possessed extraordinary bearing and obvious mana fluctuations.
“Another one here to try his luck?”
“He doesn’t look like he has any special talent…”
“Master Marguerite is only taking one student this year, it’s said. With so many competitors, tsk tsk…”
The low-voiced discussions drifted over faintly.
Ian ignored them and walked straight toward the entrance of the path shrouded in magical glow.
Standing there was a serious-looking young man in a gray apprentice robe, responsible for registration and preliminary screening.
“Name, origin, recommendation letter or proof.” The gray-robed apprentice said formulaically without looking up.
Ian calmly took out the stiff envelope sealed with mithril thread and handed it over.
When the gray-robed apprentice took the envelope and his fingers touched the Mithril Seal and the unique magical mark upon it, his movements paused visibly.
He carefully examined the coat of arms and marks on the envelope, then looked up deeply at Ian, the formulaic seriousness on his face replaced by a trace of shock and disbelief.
His attitude instantly became respectful as he stepped aside to clear the way: “Please enter the tower.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly reached the open ground at the foot of the mountain.
In an instant, all the whispered discussions came to an abrupt halt.
Glares of shock, envy, jealousy, or disbelief fell upon Ian like physical weight.
“He actually has a recommendation letter!?”
“Heavens, what is his background?”
“He’s going straight into the tower? We’ve been waiting here for three days…”
Under the baptism of everyone’s complex gazes, Ian’s expression remained unchanged. He nodded slightly to the gray-robed apprentice in thanks, then stepped onto the path shrouded in magical glow.
Just as he stepped onto the path, Ian felt his [Heart of the Platinum Dragon God] give off bursts of fluctuations.