Even after all that went down, classes ran on like clockwork, the school bell swinging through heat and dust. Unless a true catastrophe hit, no calamity could stop an opening day.
Unease pricked first. Night Frost slapped off the alarm at her ear. Qianchun lay quiet on her chest, like a kitten folded into warm linen. She’d resisted at first; habit softened her edges.
Sweetness followed like dawn light through paper windows. Waking to that sleek black hair and that fair, porcelain face felt like being rinsed clean. A pretty girl was balm for the eyes.
She dressed, then dove into a blaze of sun. Summer had slipped past, but autumn refused to arrive. The sun beat down like a copper gong, as ruthless as July.
This place, crowded with hands and voices, rebuilt fast. Night Frost had been inside the secret realm three days; already the shattered buildings were under repair. In a few months, it’d stand again, stone by stone.
She stepped through space, letting the air ripple like water, and slid through a rift in broad daylight. On the way, she palmed two pieces of bread from Blade, stuffed them in quick, waved, then surfaced by the school.
Blade was buried in work, eyes like cold glass on her screen. Only when a hand reached her bowl did she notice two, three loaves missing. She looked around, catching only crumbs and air.
“This bread is really good—” Her voice rose like steam from fresh crust.
Pink-and-white JK uniform brushing her knees, Night Frost bit through the crisp shell into soft, warm belly. Her black-tinted eyes crinkled into crescents. The smell was rich, like a bakery at dawn, and it tugged a sigh from her throat.
Heat flushed her first, a little shock at her girlish pose. She blinked, then ripped the loaf apart and shoved it in, messy and quick. Weeks of playing the maiden had bled into her bones. A dangerous thought: she almost believed it.
She hurried into the classroom. The pink pouch at her waist thumped onto her seat. She leaned against the wall, ears open to gossip rising like sparrows.
“People who vanished those days got dragged into the Abyss—you didn’t hear? It opened at… even Su Yating got swept in. The Order Keeper hasn’t let them out yet! Though they say they’re back…”
As expected, the whole room churned with talk about the recent hunting mess. At the word Abyss, some froze mid-step, as if their shoes had sunk into mud.
Fear came first, a cold breath down her spine. Night Frost, who had stood there, remembered the scene. One pancreas alone held the force of Chapter Three. What then of the owner? Was Chapter Three the ceiling of that realm?
She didn’t know if Chapter Three capped the ladder. The strongest she’d seen was that white figure hanging over the Twelfth District after the disaster. A thought flicked, and a lance pierced straight through the Black Dragon, even after Night Frost unsealed her body.
The dragon took the crushing weight, but the spear punched through her flesh. Pain bloomed again, sharp as winter wind. She shivered, grabbed her cup, and gulped water in two hard pulls.
Curiosity sparked then, bright as a match. A student who loved a good story drifted closer. She remembered Night Frost as a freshman who vanished with the hunting team for three days. It was hard not to speculate.
“Freshman, you these days…”
Her eyes flickered with gossip—no, the fire of wanting to know. Night Frost wouldn’t give the truth. She said she’d been sick in the hospital, then showed her discharge papers.
Thank the crows Blade had handled the paperwork early; without it, the mask might’ve slipped.
The senior saw the report, and that fire dimmed to embers. With a pinch of regret, she melted back into the gossiping flock.
The teacher stepped in, and silence fell like snow. Here the mode felt less like college, more like senior year before finals. Two weeks of drilling had tamed them into neat rows.
Night Frost sent up the medical file. The teacher scanned, nodded, and waved her back.
She could have told the teacher the truth of who she was, but routine was safer. She wanted to savor a slice of normal university life.
Even if normal had already cracked around the edges.
After the dull classes, Night Frost headed for the Magic Maiden program and found Illusory Glass. Their session had just ended. Illusory Glass packed the teacher’s points neat as stacked paper, ready to swing by the Order Keeper for a free staff meal. Free was sweet.
She brushed her silver hair, and heads turned like flowers toward light. Illusory Glass was too striking: white hair from crown to lash, eyes like glazed crystal, and only eleven years old.
Her Mana and talent had put her in university at eleven, a First Symphony at that age. Her grades were sharp enough to sting pride sharpened by ten-plus years of study.
They needn’t feel so ashamed. If they knew Illusory Glass could rewind time, they’d understand. In countless loops, she might have learned all this already.
“Food?” Illusory Glass looked at Night Frost.
Night Frost nodded, the answer small and sure as a pebble.
They walked together toward the Order Keeper in the Twelfth District. Night Frost knew lunch there was free if you wore the badge. Joined means enjoyed.
She took one bowl of rice, two dishes. For now, that filled her well enough.
Blade was there too, a bottle of coffee at her elbow like a loyal dog. She was venting to Moon Owl about the morning’s bread thief. If she found them, there’d be no mercy.
The true culprit, Night Frost, sat beside Blade and ate slow, unmoved as a pond at dusk. Illusory Glass spotted Moon Owl nearby, abandoned Night Frost without a flicker, and slid into the seat by Moon Owl.
Blade saw Night Frost left alone, a smiling curve in her eyes. Her fingers tapped her phone twice. Night Frost read the message, and her face cooled like a shaded stone.
“Oh my, tears, why are you eating alone, little Night Frost? Let big sister take a look—”
Night Frost turned away and let Blade’s warmth bounce off her like rain on oil.
“Come, come—big sister will eat with you…”
Night Frost’s expression grew colder, frost on glass. Illusory Glass giggled beside them, bright as silver bells.
Firm, measured footsteps sounded at the cafeteria door. A figure in an indigo robe stepped in, a Seeker badge pinned at the chest. The moment she crossed the threshold, every mind but Moon Owl’s wavered, a tug like silk thread pulled by Yunling.
Night Frost didn’t smell anything foul on the Seeker. Instead, a strand of familiarity brushed her skin, too odd to ignore. Familiarity from a stranger was a red flag waving in wind.
Something was off with this one.
Yunling smiled and exchanged greetings, ladled a scoop of rice, then sat facing Night Frost.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you.”
Her voice carried Mana, a low thrum like a distant drum. Night Frost met her gaze and took in the shadowed cheek marked with deep-blue lines, array-like yet different, glowing with slow blue light. There was Mana in those veins—likely at a Cantata Two level.
“You are…? I’m new. I don’t know the ropes.”
She had guessed who this was, but asked anyway. No surprise—Yunling was the Seeker Blade had mentioned, a person to handle with care.
“I’m Yunling of the Seeker. You look strong. How could you be ‘new’?”
Moon Owl cut in before the probe could sink deeper. Her gaze dropped, and a Chapter Three pressure pressed like a mountain. Yunling’s smile turned pale. She stopped and bowed her head to eat.
Night Frost didn’t get along with some members, but she was a part of the Twelfth District. The Seeker, as outsiders, had no right to press Mana on their people.
Even without Moon Owl, Night Frost would’ve refused. She didn’t owe the Seeker anything.
But Yunling’s little test had exposed Night Frost’s realm as Cantata Two. That was a problem.
Let Blade and the others worry about that. Matters among Magic Maidens were theirs; even as part of the Twelfth District, Night Frost had no wish to meddle.
Blade pinged Night Frost in private and said she’d take it. Blade was the sharpest mind in the Twelfth District. Night Frost trusted her—mostly. Sometimes Blade stopped being human in the worst ways, and that gave Night Frost headaches.
They finished the meal, soured just slightly, and Night Frost and Illusory Glass went back to class.
Because of the recent incident, the school paused hunting practicums. Free time turned into theory blocks. Some students groaned like old doors in wind.
Blade sipped coffee and left the office, then sought Yunling to ask why the Seeker had sent her. Blade didn’t believe a word of her answer.
She logged Yunling into the system, then drank another coffee.
The monitor showed a full satellite cloud map. A few light points pinned at the border were Chen Xiaoyin’s team.
Border groups had stirred lately. The Twelfth District dispatched Chen Xiaoyin and others to suppress.
Right now, they were tangled with Monsters, but with a Cantata Two lead, it shouldn’t spiral.
Blade took another sip, fingers flying over the keys like rain. No sign of lost sleep. Orders sent, she glanced at the time on the screen.
“About quitting time. Another busy day.”
Blade’s “quitting” didn’t mean stepping out of this room. She almost never left. She slept here, too, so she could catch emergencies the moment they broke.
By night, the Twelfth District branch was usually quiet as a temple. Tonight, noise rolled and booms cracked the dark—like Monsters had smashed their way in.
