Caleburn’s unluckiest soul had a rare stroke of fortune. As deep violet light burst from the pouch, an utterly incongruous object landed in her hands.
Metallic and sleek, its frame was forged from matte black material, forming an open ring. The circular headpiece bore asymmetrical wings—one pitch-black, the other pure silver—like a Valkyrie’s coronet.
Natives might not recognize it, but Tilisha knew instantly.
*Headphones?*
Cyberpunk-styled, no less. The black metal gleamed under the sun, while the wing-shaped earcups—one dark, one white—were accented with deep black. The stark contrast and intricate design made it look like art. Embedded in each earcup pulsed an enchanted gemstone, flickering like an LED.
Tilisha lifted the headphones, tilting them toward the sunlight. The gems emitted a faint, subdued metallic sheen—a trick from Coleman Academy’s Enchanting 101: genuine enchanted gems never glittered as fiercely as ordinary ones under direct light.
These were authentic, not cheap fakes. But whether they were high-grade or clever counterfeits remained unclear.
The enchanting trade in Caleburn was full of frauds and fakes. Swapping cold-resistance charms for fire-resistance ones—and getting clients killed—was disturbingly common. Here, "mage" wasn’t some lofty title. No flashy spells. Just glorified enchanters relying on disposable scrolls and trinkets. Morals? Optional.
Tilisha cast Divine Analysis on the gems.
**Item:** Crown of Sun and Moon
**Effects:**
1. +20% Divine Right Resistance. Dampens noise, enhances hearing. Once per day, negates one lethal Divine Right attack. After activation, the headphones fall off and enter "Powerless" state.
2. Camouflages one facial feature.
“.............” Tilisha’s expression twisted. *Again.* She’d long suspected other transmigrators existed in this world. Now? Certainty crystallized.
*This design… coincidence?*
Had someone else crossed over before her? Someone who’d even ascended to greatness?
She glanced at her status panel. The digestion timer for **Holy Oblivion** had ticked down: 29 days, 03 hours.
Nearly a month to fully absorb the weapon’s core energy. Only then would her body undergo Divine Maiden Transformation.
Divine Maidens—bearers of divine or sage bloodlines—wielded innate Divine Rights. The purer the lineage, the mightier the power. Hence the obsession with "pureblood" status among noble houses. And among them, Elves were the ultimate celestial dragons.
True half-Elves barely existed. Their rigid bloodline purity meant mixed-race offspring were erased from records, exiled from the Elven Forest forever. To Elves, such "impure" beings shouldn’t exist. Humans might admire half-Elves’ beauty but never trusted them.
Half-Elves belonged nowhere.
Tilisha despised Elven arrogance. As a Blue Earther, their "we’re the only real people" attitude felt like livestock branding. *Just my opinion,* she reminded herself. An outsider’s view. Irrelevant when she was about to be kicked out of Coleman Academy—starving and homeless.
How many days had passed since she left campus? She needed to return before missing critical lessons.
Coleman’s headmaster was an Elf, yet meritocratic. Talent over tribe. Free tuition, top resources, even handpicked teammates—all granted to those who proved themselves. Unlike other academies, Coleman trained in squads: six members max, two minimum. Each *required* one Divine Child and one Divine Maiden.
Since only Divine Children could form squads—and serve as leaders—the recruitment burden fell on them. A nightmare for the socially awkward.
These squads became lifelong bonds. Battle brothers. Lifelong allies. Sometimes spouses. Your squad shaped your destiny. Landing a future powerhouse or scion of a great house? Every Divine Child dreamed of recruiting brilliant, well-connected teammates.
Exceptional Divine Maidens never worried about being chosen. They’d coolly say, "I’ll consider it," then compare offers. In their eyes, *they* were the choosers.
Divine Children emerged randomly—peasants or princes. Divine Maidens? Always born to noble blood. This imbalance bred constant friction. Ordinary Divine Children struggled to command highborn Maidens.
Competition was brutal. When two squads vied for one Maiden, Divine Children promised absurd perks: doing laundry, serving as pack mules, revolving entire teams around her whims.
Tilisha, socially anxious and anti-hustle, found it all exhausting. *Can’t win? Don’t play.* But a squad without a Divine Maiden was invalid…
Her eyes flicked to the Divine Maiden Transformation timer on her status panel.
A sudden spark of inspiration struck.
