On the morning of the entrance exam day.
Alandiye stood before the solemn, familiar gate of the Imperial Sacred Academy. She wore a deep blue uniform dress with white petal-shaped collars and carried a brown leather suitcase.
She was dressed in the girls' uniform of "Nolan Academy." God knows what the uniform from that remote western border academy looked like. But Tiyi couldn’t possibly attend the exam in her Witch attire.
Xingyu had arranged this outfit from a trustworthy Witch tailor in town. Many women who’d lost hope in life grew fascinated by mystical knowledge beyond the mundane. That was how ordinary Witches were born.
Rumor said the seamstress had a husband who refused to work, drank heavily, and often beat her. Slowly, she stopped believing in this world. She no longer trusted hymns promising everything would turn beautiful.
"This time entering this gate... it feels different," Tiyi thought. She held the suitcase with both hands, gazing up ladylike at the gate. Of course, this elegance was just to match her current identity.
Rumble... Loud hoofbeats and clattering wheels suddenly echoed behind her.
"Make way!"
Before an ordinary girl could react, a massive carriage drawn by four towering horses charged uphill at breakneck speed.
Tiyi’s reflexes saved her. She nimbly dodged aside.
The carriage nearly smashed into the Imperial Sacred Academy’s gate. Had it done so, its owner would’ve faced dire consequences.
A tall, burly man in an exquisite pigskin hunting outfit stepped down. His gait screamed trained warrior.
"From the Imperial Capital! Thirteenth-generation descendant of the Ifer family, young master Jolowi, attends the noble Imperial Sacred Academy’s temporary recruitment exam! May the Holy Lord’s radiance bless this glorious institution and young master Jolowi!" he boomed, impeccably polite to the approaching officer.
The officer—equally tall and sturdy—laughed heartily. Though strangers, they clicked like old friends, mutual respect clear.
"As expected... Hmph," Tiyi thought coldly from afar. "These noble lackeys only bullied me. To the Holy Academy’s guards, they’re all manners."
High-born folk respected equals. But to a frail, lone examinee blocking their path? They’d bark orders without hesitation.
This was why Yedi once refused court ministers’ company. He’d declined power, tired of such people, seeking peace in solitude.
The gate opened. The officer and noble subordinate slapped each other’s arms like brothers, then ushered the carriage inside.
A curtain parted on the carriage. A blond teenager’s head emerged. His gaze landed on Tiyi, flashing disdain, before he retreated and dropped the curtain.
Tiyi wondered what she’d done. Had blocking his path ten meters from the gate offended him?
"Hm?"
She spotted a crest on the departing carriage. Eerie. Familiar, yet unplaceable. It gave her a bad feeling.
"Hey! What’s your business here?" the officer called, about to close the gate. He’d noticed Tiyi lingering outside.
Tiyi stepped forward gracefully, bowing slightly. "Hello. I’m here for today’s temporary recruitment exam. Here’s my admission letter."
She pulled a refined scroll from her suitcase’s side pocket. Its wax seal bore the Imperial Sacred Academy’s emblem.
The officer examined the seal. His expression shifted. "Miss, you’re an examinee?"
The towering Imperial guard was skeptical. Not at her beauty, but at her walking the long mountain path alone—no carriage, no escort. Only extraordinary candidates got this exam. Was she a token? A placeholder to feign fairness?
Exams often included tokens. They’d never pass, but it showed high standards and avoided rumors of favoritism. In the Empire, public perception of fairness mattered deeply.
"Go on in," the officer said flatly. Probably a token. Best not let her realize it.
Tiyi knew the academy well. She headed straight for the exam ground.
Behind the main castle complex, on a mountainside, lay the martial arts training field—the exam site.
Examiners and staff were already in place.
The exam would start in minutes.
Three examinees total.
A few meters away stood two others. One wore crimson velvet robes embroidered with Holy Church symbols. Golden hair covered his forehead; his round head marked him as the carriage boy, young master Jolowi. Beside him loomed a tall, fat man with tiny eyes. He knew Jolowi but bowed deeply to the grandson of the Empire’s finance minister, Lord Ifer.
Tiyi checked her pocket watch. Almost time. "Only three taking this exam," she mused.
Then she sensed movement. Turning, she saw figures approaching down the slope—clearly split into two groups.
The front group: teacher-examiners she recognized.
Behind them walked three tall students in white swordsmanship uniforms. In the center strode one with long flowing hair, a dashing white uniform, a short white skirt, and black stockings... Senior Qingruo.
"Senior Qingruo?" A strange voice echoed in Tiyi’s heart, unlike her usual thoughts. She didn’t even question why she called her "senior" inwardly.
Qingruo’s appearance shocked her. But the real surprise? Senior Qingruo wore a short skirt today.
