"He's no one, I've just heard the name before," Reyhan quickly explained, his tone suddenly nervous.
"Oh, alright then, Father," Sylphia replied lightly, innocently, without a hint of suspicion.
Reyhan rested his "elbow" against his temple as if wiping sweat—though honestly, he was wind. There's no such thing as sweat.
"In that case… let's head to Lumenvale Academy now!" he shouted enthusiastically, grabbing Sylphia's hand.
"Yes!" Sylphia answered, bouncing with joy and raising her left hand into the air. Her excitement spilled over, and she completely ignored the strange looks from those around them. Who cared what they thought?
In Front of Lumenvale Academy's Gate…
Sylphia halted her steps. Her eyes widened slowly as she traced the towering structure in front of her.
The main building loomed with an intimidating grace. Its walls were made of shimmering white stone, adorned with vine-like carvings that pulsed with a soft glow. Massive pillars supported a magically enchanted glass roof, reflecting sunlight into soft rainbows that blanketed the courtyard.
In front of the building stretched a long line. Most of those waiting were young elven children, around 7 to 9 years old. Their faces looked weary, likely having stood there since morning.
Some were already sitting on the ground, leaning on sticks or tiny backpacks, staring blankly into the sky as if their souls had left them. The back of the line was clearly at its limit, barely staying awake.
"Their enthusiasm is… admirable," Reyhan murmured.
Sylphia nodded. "This place… feels different. They're not like the elves who caged me back in the village."
Reyhan glanced at her, sharing the same hope. "Yeah… let's hope it really is different."
That hope didn't last long.
Several horse-drawn carriages approached.
But these weren't ordinary carriages. Their wheels hovered inches above the grass. Each carriage was flanked by uniformed guards and flags bearing family crests. Their arrival caused the queue to shift. The children bowed or moved aside without being asked.
Sylphia squinted.
The leading carriage belonged to the Royal Family Vael'thyr.
The main carriage was plated in white gold. On its side, the emblem of a three-eyed phoenix—symbol of the Vael'thyr royal family. Inside sat a seven-year-old boy: Daniel Vael'thyr.
His hair was pale blond, like moonlight, and his eyes… golden. Not yellow—literal gold, like two coins fitted into his sockets since birth.
He wore a formal robe of white and gold, etched with floating magical runes that shifted color with the light. A pendant shaped like a split sun hung from his chest.
He was the Last Prince of House Vael'thyr, heir to the throne. His family's spirit was the Pure Light Spirit, famed for its purification and aura domination abilities.
Behind him followed the carriage of House Duke Elowen'ra.
A soft lavender carriage adorned with wind-blown floral patterns. Its flag bore the image of a winged deer caught in a spiral.
Inside sat a small girl with wavy platinum hair and crystal violet eyes. She wore a long, misty evening dress of fine layers, elegant yet flowing. A fan made of purple phoenix feathers hung in her hand.
Her name was Eliera Elowen'ra — the last daughter of Duke Elowen'ra's family.
Their lineage possessed the Mystic Wind Spirit, famous for stealth and reconnaissance techniques unseen even among noble families.
Next came the carriage of Duke Thandorvel.
A rich emerald carriage adorned with living root vines. Its flag showed a coiled serpent around a tree trunk.
Inside was a seven-year-old boy with short golden hair and turquoise green eyes. He wore a mantle made of living plant leather that breathed with each movement. A small serpent coiled on his shoulder — likely his spirit.
His name: Caelen Thandorvel, heir of a family known for the Aggressive Plant Spirit, a wild fusion of defense and overwhelming attack.
Following that, the carriage of House Marquis Arwyndel.
Sky-blue and silver, its sleek design resembled a bird in flight. Its flag bore an owl with three eyes.
Inside sat an eight-year-old girl with dual buns of blonde hair and dark violet eyes. She wore a tight explorer's outfit, her belt lined with miniature magical gadgets.
Her name: Velissa Arwyndel, wielder of the Illusion & Sound Spirit, infamous for sensory manipulation and confusion.
Last was the carriage of House Marquessa Elthorn.
A metallic silver-black carriage shaped like a dragon's head. Its banner displayed a twin-headed dragon clutching a world sphere.
Inside stood a boy, eight years old, with silver-blonde hair and crimson eyes. He wore dark leather clothes with dragon-scale shoulder pads.
His name was Drevan Elthorn, first son of Marquessa Elthorn. Their family wielded the Black Flame Spirit, a rare and destructive force rarely used in war because… nothing's left after it's unleashed.
One by one, the noble children disembarked with arrogance and self-assurance. Their outfits were elegant, each bearing family crests on their chests or belts. But the most striking presence was the small slave attendants trailing behind them—half-elf children Sylphia's age, wearing ragged clothes and collars of slavery around their necks. Their eyes were downcast, too afraid to meet anyone's gaze.
The long-waiting commoners began whispering.
"They just show up and walk right in?"
"Shut up! If anyone hears, you'll die," one warned, glancing nervously at the guards near the entrance.
"Look at that filthy half-elf slave."
"I had one once. Died."
"Big noble families probably have tons like them."
Sylphia clenched the hem of her long skirt. Her gaze fixed on the silent, battered half-elves. Rage boiled in her chest, so intense the air around her turned cold.
"I thought the elves here would be different… but they're the same," she whispered.
"Don't worry… we'll save them," Reyhan's soft voice flowed into her ear like a breeze. "But for now, you must protect yourself. We'll plan the rest later."
Sylphia lowered her head, calming her emotions, then answered softly but firmly.
"Yes… I trust you, Father. You saved me before."
At that moment, her eyes caught something — the noble children were handing over recommendation letters to the academy staff. Letters that looked… just like hers. The one Sirton gave her.
Realizing that, Sylphia stepped forward with newfound confidence. But before she reached the front, her hand was grabbed harshly by an older elf boy from the queue. His expression was furious as he leaned in.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" he snapped. "We've been standing here since morning and you think you can just waltz in?!"
Sylphia turned calmly, her expression blank.
"You think you're one of them, some great noble kid?! Just from your eye color I can tell—you're no high elf!"
The boy grew more enraged, fist clenched, and swung a punch at Sylphia.
"You little brat! I'll teach you a lesson—!"
"Freeze."
Sylphia's voice was quiet… but sharp. Instantly, the air dropped in temperature. The boy's upper body froze from shoulder to waist. His eyes widened as he collapsed onto the ground with a crash. The crowd gasped, several stumbling backward.
"What just happened?!"
"She froze him?! That girl… she already has a Spirit Contract?!"
In the distance, Prince Daniel, who had nearly reached the academy gate, stopped in his tracks. He turned, his sharp gaze locking onto Sylphia.
"Interesting," he murmured with a slight smile. "I think I'll wait here a little longer."
Seeing the prince pause, the other nobles followed suit. None dared to enter before Daniel.
Off to the side, Velissa Arwyndel, known to fancy the prince, scowled.
'That lowborn dares draw the prince's attention…' she thought bitterly.
In the center of it all, Sylphia remained silent, cold as ice. But beneath that calm face, Reyhan's voice whispered frantically.
"Stay calm, sweetheart… you need to hold back for now."
"But Father… he started it…" Sylphia whispered.
"I know, I know… but you have to be patient. We can't act yet."
"…Alright, Father."
Then, calmly and gracefully, Sylphia lifted the letter of recommendation from Sirton.
The crowd stirred again with whispers.
"Is that... a letter of recommendation?"
"Could it be... real?"
"Where did she get that? A commoner like her couldn't possibly..."
"If it's fake, she'll be arrested on the spot. But... it looks real..."
Prince Daniel, still standing at the front gate, let out a quiet snort. "I see..." he murmured, stepping inside.
Without another word, the other noble children eventually followed.
With steady yet elegant steps, Sylphia walked forward, approaching the table where the examiners stood. The crowd's gazes remained fixed on her—curious, skeptical. When she reached the examiners, she silently handed them the letter.
One of the examiners—a mature elf with long blonde hair, clearly accustomed to dealing with arrogant nobles—raised an eyebrow as he took the letter. He slowly unrolled the scroll and read its contents in silence.
His eyes widened.
That unmistakable slanted handwriting, the red wax seal stamped with a violet crescent moon—everything matched Professor Sirton Wardmoon's signature style.
"Don't ask too many questions. Just let this child in!"
The examiner swallowed hard. The hand holding the letter trembled slightly. It was as if he could hear the professor's voice whispering in his ear—demanding, threatening... suffocating.
And yet, his fear still wrestled with doubt. His eyes shifted toward Sylphia. The girl stood calm—too calm. Unlike the usual recommended students who arrived with lavish entourages, servants, or guards, this girl... came alone.
And that was the problem.
"Where did you get this letter?" he asked sharply, trying to mask his nerves.
Sylphia met his gaze without blinking.
"Professor Sirton gave it to me himself."
"Don't lie. This letter... even if the seal is real, you could've stolen it from some clueless noble."
The crowd broke into noise again. Some booed, while others watched breathlessly.
Sylphia took a deep breath. The air around her began to chill.
"I'm not here to cause trouble," she said, her voice flat but cutting. "If you're certain it's fake, then don't bother arguing."
She stepped a little closer, locking eyes with the examiner.
"But... what if it's real?"
'My daughter is terrifying,' Reyhan muttered with a shiver. 'I better be careful around her in the future.'
Her words froze the blood in the room.
The examiner's face turned pale. Sirton's image appeared in his mind—a living legend, a genius professor, but infamous for his cruelty toward anyone who dared disrupt his "research," even his own students.
He knew that one mistake could turn him into the next unwilling test subject.
The trembling in his hand grew worse.
"E-Enou—That's enough. You... you may enter!" he stammered, waving her through as if trying to shoo her away before he lost his nerve.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then whispers resumed.
"She actually got in?"
"Professor Sirton...? You mean that crazy professor?"
"Could she really be his direct student?"
Sylphia didn't respond. She simply walked past the table, past the stunned and judgmental stares, like a cold wind slicing through bone.
Far ahead, Velissa Arwyndel bit her lip.
'Disgusting. A like her... shouldn't be standing in
the same place as me. Even if she has Sirton's letter!'
Meanwhile, inside the grand hall, Prince Daniel glanced once more at Sylphia and gave a faint smile.
"Not just Spirit power... but courage too. Interesting."