A Strange Invitation

Some wield the most advanced magical tools yet fail to intimidate, while others, with only their voice, can make foes tremble.

Leia, standing here, was clearly the latter.

As her voice rang out, Bruka’s hand, fumbling in his pocket, shook violently.

The object he clutched slipped, clattering to the ground—a rune crystal.

Selina glanced down, recognizing it instantly. Vines sprouted from the grass, coiling around the crystal and delivering it to her hand.

She examined the runes and sneered.

“A sealing crystal? A noble like you resorting to such underhanded tricks?” As a former thief in her past life, Selina knew these tools well.

Inscribed with a target’s true name and infused with their blood, a sealing crystal could suppress someone’s magic for a set time. The crystal bore her alias, “Selina,” in universal script.

She hadn’t expected Bruka, all bluster and no substance, to be this cunning.

But his plan failed before it began—her false name rendered the crystal useless.

“You know nothing! This is noble ingenuity—something a nameless peasant like you could never understand!” Bruka spat.

“Your manners scream noble training, yet you lack a surname. You’re either a fallen aristocrat’s heir or a disowned bastard—”

Clang!

Two sharp blades unsheathed, cutting off his tirade. Bruka’s blue eyes shrank, his ornate-clad body quaking, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Cold steel pressed against both sides of his neck—Selina’s silver crystal daggers on one side, Leia’s katana on the other.

“Keep talking,” Selina taunted. “Let’s see if your mouth moves faster than my blades.” In a blink, she’d flashed to his side, her speed a blur, her dagger at his throat.

Leia moved simultaneously, her blade a silent promise of death, placed with chilling precision.

“Bruka, we haven’t settled your stunt in the Secret Realm,” Leia said coolly. “You seem lively—shall we clear the score now?”

Pinned by the top two freshmen, Bruka faced an unprecedented humiliation.

His legs trembled, no match for either. A damp warmth spread through his expensive trousers, and Selina’s sharp senses caught a faint, acrid scent.

She grimaced, glancing down. “Well, well, Young Master Bruka wets himself? Do you still wet the bed too?”

Her mocking tone, light but scathing, rang out publicly.

Bruka’s face flushed a furious red, shame and rage warring within him, but with his life in their hands, he couldn’t retort. “Please, I was wrong! Spare me, just this once…” he whimpered, his noble pride shattered.

Wetting himself in public, noble or not, was a disgrace even an imperial prince couldn’t escape.

Satisfied, Selina nudged Leia, signaling her to stand down.

Both sheathed their blades, the pressure easing. Bruka collapsed, his legs giving out.

His lackeys, previously cowering, rushed to haul him away, his soaked trousers a public spectacle.

Selina twirled her daggers, sliding them into hidden sheaths.

Looming over Bruka, she said, “A word of advice: not everyone’s status is tied to their name, nor is every nameless person yours to provoke.

Stop now, or even your father won’t save you.” Her usual gentle elegance gave way to a chilling authority, her dark eyes commanding, as if she were an imperial princess like Asteria herself.

Bruka, trembling, saw the resemblance in her aura.

“Go, go!” he stammered, his lackeys dragging him from the mixer’s venue. The crowd dispersed, the show over.

Selina relaxed, rubbing her stiff cheeks, her gem-like eyes filled with exasperation.

She disliked playing the haughty princess, but it worked on fools like Bruka. “Thanks, Miss Leia,” she said, offering a warm smile.

“No need. I was passing by and stepped in. Besides, I owe you from the Secret Realm,” Leia replied, arms crossed over her katana. Her stoic face softened slightly, a ripple of warmth in her cold eyes.

“Thank you too, Leia,” said Eir, the timid girl Selina had shielded, bowing gratefully. “I was worried when you didn’t show at the welcome ceremony this morning.”

“Why worry?” Leia asked.

“Don’t overthink it!” Selina laughed. “If the top scorer skips, all eyes fall on me, the runner-up. I hate the spotlight, so I need you to draw the heat.” Her tone was playful, shedding her earlier gravitas.

“So that’s why you gave me those points in the realm?” Leia asked, eyes narrowing.

“Exactly,” Selina said with a sly grin.

Leia’s gaze lingered, serious. “You still owe me a proper duel. Within a month of school starting, I’ll challenge you again.”

Selina sighed, slumping dramatically. “Seriously? The duel in the realm was just a tactic. I don’t want to fight you—I’m no match!” Her lack of competitive spirit was almost comical.

“Not necessarily,” Leia countered. “Until our blades clash, the outcome’s unknown. Your speed rivals mine—the only one who can match me. I look forward to our fight.”

“Can’t we skip it? We’re girls—why not be proper ladies instead of swinging blades all day?” Selina groaned, echoing Karina’s old advice, once scoffed at but now wielded to dodge Leia’s challenge.

“Words even you don’t believe—why say them to convince me?” Leia’s voice turned faintly resentful, her gaze lingering on Selina’s neck. “At night, Erebus’s followers gain heightened perception, sensing emotions to discern truth from lies.”

Selina’s lips twitched—she’d been caught. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” she muttered inwardly, squirming under Leia’s reproachful stare. “I’m in the magic department to learn magic. If it’s a magic duel, I might consider it.”

“Easy,” Leia said, undeterred. “I’ll use my top-scorer privilege to switch to the magic department. I know some magic, and duels don’t ban physical combat.”

Selina sighed, defeated. “Fine, we’ll talk when there’s time.”

“By the way, why stay? Your mission’s done—shouldn’t you report to the underworld? Or are you here for student life, or does your goddess have new orders?” Selina asked, curious.

Leia hesitated. “It’s not exactly a mission…” Before she could elaborate, a voice interrupted.

“Well, well, the top two freshmen having a secret chat? I searched the hall for you!” A sea-blue-haired elf in the academy uniform approached, smiling. Her pointed ears peeked through her hair.

Selina tensed, fearing it was someone who knew her, but relaxed upon confirming a stranger. “You are…?”

“Sorry for interrupting, but your talk was dragging, and I have business to attend to,” the elf said, pointing to a badge beside her school emblem.

“I’m Dariya, a sea elf and third-year student, also the student council’s organization department head. Tonight’s mixer is council-hosted, and I’m here with important news.”

Her warm tone disarmed strangers easily. “Go on,” Selina and Leia said, exchanging glances.

“As this year’s top freshmen, you’ve caught attention from new and senior students alike. The student council values talent to aid academy management, and your skills fit perfectly. On behalf of President Felicia, I invite you both to meet her tonight at the council office. She’s intrigued by your Secret Realm performance.”

Selina’s heart sank, sweat beading on her brow.

Felicia’s sending her officers to summon us? Does she know? The council’s tradition of meeting top scorers was news to her.

Was this a trap to expose her disguise? If Felicia knew Selina was at Tianqi, she’d have stormed in herself, not sent an intermediary.

That meant her cover might still hold—but a meeting risked everything. Her disguise fooled most, but not a blood relative like Felicia.

No way I’m going. I need to drag Leia with me. “I’m fine with it,” Leia said casually.

Selina froze—too late! Leia’s agreement cornered her. “And you, Miss Selina?” Dariya asked, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry, President Felicia is kind. No need to be nervous as a freshman.”

“I know she’s kind to outsiders,” Selina thought, panicking.

Felicia’s gentleness toward strangers was legendary, but her sisterly affection was overwhelming.

If exposed, Selina might not see her dorm tonight—Felicia would whisk her away for a smothering reunion.

Her body shuddered at the thought. “I’m not feeling well. I’d rather rest,” she said, shaking her head.

“Not well? Our council’s medical department runs 24/7, staffed by gifted healers and alchemists.

Come with me, and you’ll be cured in minutes—plus meet the president.

Win-win!” Dariya’s enthusiasm left no room for refusal.

Selina cursed inwardly.

Who invites people like this? She won’t stop until I’m dragged there! As an elf princess, she could complain to Karina later, but now, sweat glistened on her forehead.

“Miss Selina, time’s ticking,” Dariya pressed.

With Leia committed and her excuse failing, refusal would raise suspicions.

Am I doomed before I even start? Just then, another voice cut in. “Is the black-haired lady Miss Selina?”

All eyes turned to a shadowed figure under a tree—a red-eyed girl in black night garb.

“I’m Helos, here on my mistress’s orders to invite Miss Selina as per a prior arrangement.”

Selina’s eyes lit up, seizing the lifeline. “Right, I forgot! I have a prior engagement.

First come, first served—I must regretfully decline President Felicia’s invitation.” Though clueless about this new summons, Selina saw only escape.

She couldn’t face Felicia’s intense sisterly love so soon after their separation.