After the records were etched into Coleman Academy’s crystal archive, Dilin arrived at the library, having removed the Golden Chalice Butterfly hairpin.

Following his round trip to the Elf Temple, a question lingered: the hairpin’s enchantment randomly amplified one skill’s power, explaining his sudden leap in Divine Analysis. But it held no magic to turn humans into Elves—or men into women.

To become Tilisha, Dilin needed this hairpin. He guessed it wasn’t granting transformation but acting as a key to unlock something within him.

Of course, it was just a guess. He couldn’t be sure.

He wasn’t here out of crisis awareness or sudden diligence.

One hand tucked in his pocket, Dilin gripped the golden butterfly hairpin, face calm. His eyes sparkled with focused intensity as he stared at a panel only he could see.

【Browse Books】 Reward: half a token.

【Test the Waters】 Reward: two tokens.

The panel, written in Elf script, was perfectly legible to him.

Familiar?

Absolutely. Pulling it up triggered DNA-deep memories.

Wasn’t this just the utterly brain-dead daily and weekly quests?

Grinding repetitive, nonsensical tasks every day, satisfying devs’ whims for pitiful rewards that barely covered a meal. Dilin had cursed this in his past life.

Why was he still stuck with this grind in another world?

Worse, a calendar icon glowed in the corner. Tapping it revealed something even more nauseating.

Sign-in Sheet.

Day 1 reward: Blindness Potion.

Ugh. The vibe was too thick. Thick enough to make him sick.

..............And again, flashbangs? Can’t they switch it up? What did he need so many for?

Dilin grimaced at the colorless alchemy potion, imagining a golden-haired loli frantically hurling flashbangs at enemies mid-battle.

What was the market price for “flashbang” potions anyway?

He’d never checked Coleman City’s alchemy demand.

Daily: half a token. Weekly: two tokens. Five and a half gacha pulls per week. Thirteen pulls took two weeks.

Hmm. This stingy, fragmented system—forcing you to piece together scraps.

So familiar.

Dailies and weeklies covered, but only thirteen pulls in two weeks. Seemingly little? Actually little.

A pity system at 150 pulls, no increased odds. Without enough tokens, every pull could vanish like water in a sieve.

And this was a limited-time UP banner. UP banners don’t wait. When it leaves, not even an AE86 can catch it.

But low rewards didn’t mean no other paths. Dilin’s eyes locked onto red text boxed below the quests, screaming for attention.

【Limited-Time Trial: Claim the Freshman Crown Cup championship】 Reward: fifty tokens.

Fifty tokens—nearly two months’ grind. The difficulty was daunting.

Win the Freshman Crown Cup? How easy could that be?

His current goal was just avoiding expulsion. Now they wanted him to take first place? The leap was absurd.

Better to focus on the present. No need to dream big.

Dilin sighed.

【Browse Books】 wasn’t about reading—it just required scanning ten books at once with Divine Analysis. A formality.

【Test the Waters】 was harder: kill any monster in Coleman Forest.

Seeing the half token credited, Dilin felt a trace of relief.

A fly is still meat. Every bit counts. Even all flashbangs were acceptable. Only two paths could save him: Divine Maiden Transformation or the Golden Chalice Butterfly’s treasure trove.

He preferred the latter. “Divine Maiden Transformation” confused him. He feared it.

He wasn’t a natural Divine Maiden, nor a native here. To locals, it was sacred. To him, it was unknown.

He came from a world without magic or qi. Everything felt alien. Adapting would take time.

Besides, this was all a stopgap. He didn’t believe he could truly become a Divine Maiden and stand on the Crown Cup stage.

As his thoughts drifted, Dilin didn’t notice three elf maidens entering the library, their pointed ears betraying their identity.

...............

The trio drew immediate attention. Chairs scraped and books thudded in the quiet library.

But they moved unfazed, accustomed to being the center of attention. Perhaps even expecting it?

Only a familiar flash of silver made Dilin look up.

Their eyes met for less than half a second before both looked away.

The silver-haired elf maiden—Astrid—jerked her gaze away first, as if afraid he’d catch her staring. Dilin calmly averted his only after she did.

Princess Astrid’s beauty held a bewitching charm, one that could ensnare even her own gender. Men stood no chance.

No male survived her allure. It was magic from her noble bloodline and Divine Right heritage. After Divine Maiden Transformation, it became irresistible to mortals.

Countless female students had fallen for her at first sight. How many male fans existed?

Astrid was Coleman Academy’s most popular student. Who could tally her fans—let alone the hardcore ones?

Dilin was the first male to witness her post-Transformation beauty. Logically, he should be the most obsessed after a month as her teammate. Deeper fixation might’ve turned him into a “tengu.”

Yet today, seeing her left him utterly calm.

Before, knowing he had no chance with the high-born princess, he’d dodge her on campus, trying not to care. But he couldn’t.

True indifference meant passing her normally, offering a polite smile. That’s what letting go looked like.

Now, Dilin was surprised by his own apathy. It felt ordinary. If she greeted him, he’d smile back. If not, he’d read his book.

He savored this feeling. Like something had lost its shine. People weren’t “things,” but it was the best explanation he had.

Why? He wasn’t sure.

Before Transformation, Astrid was a little girl. After, she became a bewitching fairy overnight.

What would Tilisha look like after Divine Maiden Transformation?

Dilin refocused on Astrid, imagining his own change. So absorbed, he didn’t notice the elves approaching.

“Ahem. Staring nonstop within ten meters is rather rude, you know?” A stranger’s voice cut in.

“Huh?” Dilin blinked up at a chestnut-haired elf maiden leaning over his desk. Only then did he realize he’d been gawking at Astrid.

“Sorry.” He averted his gaze, apologizing to Astrid and her companions.

Astrid stood silently, head bowed, hands clasped. They acted like strangers.

“Classmate, know your limits,” the chestnut-haired elf said meaningfully, then led the others away.

Know your limits—basically, “know your place.”

Dilin barely registered it, lost in thoughts of Transformation.

“Princess Astrid, was that your former Divine Child?” the chestnut-haired elf asked once distant.

“Yes.” Astrid nodded. Sunlight through wooden windows bathed her silver hair like moonlight.

The elf stayed silent. She found the human ordinary—forgettable among Divine Children. But she avoided upsetting her princess.

She could tell Astrid still clung to him.

It didn’t matter. Astrid was young, hadn’t met other men. Once she met high elf gentlemen, her views would change.

The chestnut-haired elf believed this.