The palace’s glass windows reflected the myriad lights of the imperial capital, a scene that looked warm and inviting, yet it could not thaw the tension in Kresia’s spine.
When she met Charlotte today, her calm and composed demeanor had only been upheld by her rigid adherence to royal etiquette. Now alone, she had been troubled for a long time.
In truth, she was… Princess Kresia was at her wits’ end. From the very day she returned to the palace from the Magic Academy, everything she had once known was utterly changed.
The once-stable Kalishi Empire now seemed like a ship drifting in a storm, beset by internal and external crises that surged in like the tide.
The Dukes of the Five Directions each harbored their own ambitions, openly and secretly vying for power.
Her elder brothers were either short-sighted hedonists, or so eager for gain that they scrambled to win allies; not a single one could shoulder the greater burden.
Her father, frail and sickly since his youth, was now confined to his sickbed, and no one could say how much longer he could hold on.
What troubled her most was the rumor from the westernmost part of the Continent—a place once stained with Sacred Blood in the Chaos Domain—where demonic monsters had appeared, frighteningly similar to those recorded in the ancient histories.
Even if the Demonic Race who once defied the Gods were thousands of miles from the Kalishi Empire, it still felt like a sword hanging over their heads.
The Aetherland Theocracy had taken the initiative to offer their Holy Maiden to investigate, but their conditions were extremely harsh: not only demanding that every nation cede vast swathes of their resource-rich lands, but also that the Theocracy be allowed to freely proselytize within their borders.
The living beings of the Continent already harbored prejudices against the Gods; naturally, none were willing to accept such terms.
Yet one of her royal brothers, eager to win the Theocracy’s favor, had privately invited the Aetherland Theocracy’s Holy Maiden to the Emperor’s banquet.
Kresia closed her eyes, overcome by a sense of helplessness—the Empire’s upper echelons had long been infiltrated by the Theocracy’s spies, and now allowing the Holy Maiden into the palace was practically handing over the hilt of a knife.
Could the Kalishi Empire ever return to that pure, Kalishi-only homeland it once was?
To be honest, it was almost impossible.
The answer circled in her heart for a long time, before finally dissolving into an inaudible sigh.
She turned toward the dressing mirror. The girl reflected there was pale, her once-bright amber eyes veiled in mist, and even her meticulously styled pink hair looked a little disheveled.
“If I don’t have the backing of a great power, Charlotte probably wouldn’t help me, either.” She murmured to her reflection, her tone full of bitterness.
No one knew better than she did that she had nothing to offer Charlotte in exchange for his full support. A single Teleportation Array was hardly enough to earn his wholehearted backing.
Charlotte had his own people to protect, his own goals to pursue—he had no reason to drag himself into the mud for the sake of a crumbling empire.
Her thoughts drifted back, unbidden, to that day before the holiday when she had sought out Dean Movira at the Magic Academy to discuss the matter.
Back then, she still clung to her last thread of hope, her voice almost pleading: “Dean, could you please help me?”
The reply came from the Elf seated in the Oak Chair—the one universally acknowledged as the greatest mage in the world, a person who had reached the pinnacle in the field of magic.
Movira’s wine-red hair fell like silk over her robe. She held a quill in her fingers, her calm gaze fixed on the Magic Scroll before her, her tone utterly unperturbed: “Impossible.
The Kalishi Empire is not yet at the brink of ruin. There’s no need for me to intervene.
Besides, Kalishi Academy has always maintained neutrality. The disputes of your human nations should be resolved by your own kind.”
“But… but…” In the end, Kresia couldn’t help it and broke into tears. The immense sense of helplessness was unbearable.
She even started to regret it all—maybe she should never have enrolled in Kalishi Academy, never have tried to bear the burden of royalty while also longing for the freedom of magic.
Movira finally put down her quill and looked up at her.
There was no sympathy in her eyes, only the calm detachment of one who had seen through the ways of the world:
“On the day you enrolled, I told you—if you wish to walk far on the path of magic, you must first abandon your royal status. When you become a Transcendent, when your life evolves to the next level, you’ll understand that the rise and fall of empires is the natural order of the world. The Kalishi Empire has endured until today only because your Surname symbolizes ‘the defiance of mortals against the Gods.’”
Kresia clenched her skirt tightly. Of course, she knew this history—the Kalishi Empire was the first city-state to defy the rule of the Gods, and a thousand years ago, Dean Movira had proclaimed to the world her eternal protection over this land and established the Kalishi Academy.
Movira had lived for thousands of years, having seen countless powers rise and fall, but Kresia was different. She was only in her twenties. Her family, her memories, everything she cared about was rooted in this land.
“If you really want help, isn’t Charlotte the perfect candidate?”
Movira’s voice softened slightly, and when she mentioned Charlotte, a trace of hope flickered deep in her eyes. “I trust him—he can help you accomplish what you desire.”
“Junior Charlotte…” Kresia repeated his name softly, a swirl of complicated emotions rising in her heart.
“If I’m not mistaken, he’s from the Kalishi Empire as well, isn’t he? If you explain everything to him, he will help you.”
Movira rose and came to Kresia’s side, gently patting her shoulder. “Let me tell you a secret. In Elven language, Charlotte’s name means hope…”
“But still, I hope you can learn to let go. After all, you’re one of my favorite students. Only by growing strong yourself can you better protect what you hold dear—just like I have.”
……
But in the end, Charlotte might not help her after all.
She suddenly felt that this palace, symbol of the Kalishi royal authority, could no longer contain her true self.
Maybe she really should give up, abandon her identity as a princess, and devote herself wholly to the study of magic.
Every night, she thought this way, thinking all night long, and every night she lost sleep.
The greater the responsibility, the heavier the pressure. The long years of restraint had stretched her spirit to its limit.
She desperately wanted to vent all her frustration. She wanted someone to confide in, but who could truly speak to a princess as an equal?
In the whole Kalishi Empire, there was no one worthy of her. She could only keep wearing her dignified, elegant mask—deceiving others, deceiving herself.
Kresia had not slept well in a long time.
The suppression in her heart was like rain trapped in the clouds, and one midnight, she could no longer hold it back.
Kresia walked to the terrace. The night wind whipped her skirt, a chill brushing her cheeks. She gazed up at the sky full of stars, then suddenly laughed at herself. “Gods… heh…” Her laughter was bitter. She hugged herself, as if in prayer. “Where are the Gods now…”
Yet, even as she said it, she couldn’t help making a silent wish to the stars, her voice as light as a feather: “Anyone at all, just… if someone could just help me, even a little…”
Her voice faded, trembling uncontrollably, and at last tears slipped from her eyes, landing on the cold railing and shattering into tiny beads of water.
Just then, a crystal-blue star in the sky flashed.
The light was faint, yet in the dark night it was strikingly clear, as if responding to her wish.
Kresia froze, subconsciously looking up at the star, a faint glimmer of hope rising in her heart—one she could scarcely believe.
In the silence of night, a magical array’s glow suddenly appeared in Kresia’s vision.
The wind surged, swirling her pink hair and skirt. Then, a figure was lifted by the whirlwind to stand before her, landing gently on the railing.
A familiar voice sounded again. She looked up and met a pair of emerald green eyes.
“Senior, are you stargazing this late?”