Change

Gazing at the stubborn, silent girl before her, Melianne saw echoes of another figure.

Long ago, that man stood before her, a Heaven-Deficient facing the headmistress of the continent’s premier academy. Yet his presence was neither timid nor humble—he stood quietly, resolute and silent…

It was that encounter that led Melianne to grant his disciple a rare recommendation spot.

Originally, the invitation was meant for Kant, despite his age exceeding the academy’s limits. The world always made exceptions for the strong, didn’t it?

No one would reject a master of speed, even a thief like Kant. Other factions might shy away from his identity, but Apocalypse Academy didn’t care.

Perhaps it was truly the familiar resolve in Lydia that stirred her. After consistent silence or refusals, Headmistress Melianne finally relented.

“Your master and I had some history. He asked me to look after you before he left. You’ve come to me so many times—if I don’t respond now, it’d be unjustifiable…”

“I can’t openly rig the tournament matchups; it’d undermine fairness. But I can use my authority to advance your duel with Felicia to the semifinals. If you reach the top four, I’ll ensure you face her then.”

Melianne compromised, and Lydia bowed deeply in gratitude, her heart swelling with thanks. Only with the headmistress’s help could her plan, her wager, succeed.

“Thank you…”

Lydia bowed three times, lingering on the last, head low, holding back tears, her voice trembling.

The steadfast girl revealed her vulnerable side.

“No need to thank me. Thank your late master. I’m bending the rules for his sake. Don’t let yourself down, Lydia.”

Melianne gently lifted her, patting her shoulder.

“But I must inform Felicia in advance. It’s only fair to her. If I kept it secret, it’d be too unfair for a girl like her.

The matchup change needs her consent, or even my guarantee won’t hold.”

Lydia nodded quickly, understanding. With the headmistress’s approval, it was practically settled. A proud elven princess like Felicia couldn’t refuse a challenge, even an early one.

“Felicia’s on leave at the Elven Forest for her sister’s birthday. I’ll send word to your dorm in a few days.”

“Thank you, Headmistress. I’ll take my leave.”

Having received her answer, Lydia had no reason to stay. She politely excused herself and left.

With a soft thud, the office door closed. Lydia lingered in the corridor, her slender fingers clenching tightly at her chest, knuckles whitening from the strain.

Head bowed, leaning against the wall, her long hair veiled her face, hiding her sorrow. The headmistress’s words echoed, lingering.

Felicia was back home, celebrating her sister’s birthday with her mother.

At the academy, everyone might stand alone, but outside, students returned to family. School life was tough, but at home, they were cherished. Everyone except Lydia, alone, her only family gone…

She slid down the wall, crouching on the cold floor, hands covering her face as tears and sobs slipped through her fingers.

Minutes later, she stifled her cries, stood, and wiped her face haphazardly.

Head low, she hurried down the stairs. As her frail figure vanished, Melianne appeared where she’d crouched, unnoticed. Gazing at the tear stains on the floor, her ageless face furrowed.

After a long silence, she sighed deeply…

…

Switching perspectives to the Elven Forest, while her disciple fought to reclaim her “remains,” the “deceased” Kant was faring poorly.

Since being carried, dazed, from the sacred grounds, her life had been under Felicia’s meticulous care!

Being cared for sounded relaxing, but excessive attention felt like surveillance. Now, lying in her princess bed, Selina was watched by Felicia, who sat by her side like a devoted guard, eyes full of worry.

Come on, Big Sister, even if I were sick, you don’t need to hover like this! I have no personal space!

Selina only dared complain inwardly. Her current plight stemmed from a slip-up upon waking.

After the Sacred Bath, Felicia had rushed her back to her chambers. After a sisterly body-wiping session, Selina was tucked into bed like fragile jade, carefully tended.

Under Felicia’s doting care, she awoke, seeing her sister first. Still groggy, Selina blurted, “Felicia, why are you here?”—cold, unfamiliar words that pierced her sister’s worried heart.

In Felicia’s mind, Selina’s first words should’ve been a sweet, playful “Big Sister.” Her slip convinced Felicia that divine power had muddled her sister’s mind and memory.

Thus began round-the-clock care—meals hand-fed, bathroom trips escorted for fear of falls, baths unavoidable, their sisterly intimacy leaving Selina blushing repeatedly. At night, she became Felicia’s personal pillow.

Clinging to a beauty like Felicia was a dream for many, but living like this daily, unable to reveal her recovered memories, was unbearable!

Selina roared inwardly.

Change must come! I can’t sink into this gentle trap!

The second princess of the Elven Kingdom swore to herself.