Tilisha had little contact with the freshman crowd, so every face she saw in the Divine Maiden Academy was unfamiliar.

A beast-shaped censer woven with gold threads and agate smoldered with fragrant herbs. In one corner of the classroom stood a griffin statue—not mere decoration. Inside it flowed a safe, master-crafted alchemical potion, sweet and refreshing, freely offered to Divine Maidens for alertness.

The hall glowed in warm crimson silk edged with gold thread. Velvet curtains veiled the campus view beyond, making the space feel like a royal palace. One couldn’t call the Divine Child or Mage Academies shabby, but their facilities paled against the Divine Maiden Academy’s meticulous grandeur. Every ornament here—from lectern to stair-step seats—oozed luxury. Even the complimentary alchemical drinks cost more than Divine Child or Mage students could ever afford.

Stepping into this opulent classroom, Tilisha instantly understood why most Divine Maidens carried such haughty airs. As the saying went: *the land shapes its people*. This environment bred nobles born with silver spoons. Common sense alone told you these elites—raised with superior resources, education, and surroundings—would never view commoners as equals.

Unlike the Divine Child Academy’s atmosphere, the Divine Maiden classroom radiated an unapproachable "nobility" that left Tilisha feeling like an outsider.

"Miss Annie, this sweet gardenia scent suits you perfectly~ Did you switch shampoos again?"

"*Pfft*, Miss Aerin flatters me. It’s just an ordinary shampoo. But *you*—that perfume! Isn’t it Alchemy Grandmaster Eden’s latest release? Such a trendsetter."

"*You’re* the trendsetter, Miss Annie. Knowing so much means you’ve tried it long ago, haven’t you?"

"Hehe.........."

Their chatter spanned master-crafted gear and alchemical wonders to designer shampoos, perfumes, and jewelry. Every topic was alien to Tilisha. Since entering, she’d felt these Divine Maidens were worlds apart—physically near yet utterly unreachable. Their conversations, their very existence, excluded her. This gap, carved by clashing upbringings and values, made genuine connection impossible.

Unofficial freshmen weren’t required to wear uniforms. The Divine Maidens’ attire was so lavish, adding a banquet table would turn the classroom into a royal ball. Only Tilisha stood out in coarse cloth garments and simple tied shoes.

Elegant clusters dotted the spacious hall, each group exchanging refined anecdotes with polished vocabulary—a performance of superiority. In this world, isolated Divine Maidens became invisible pebbles, forgotten and ignored. Though classes hadn’t begun, every girl carried the unshakable confidence of a Crown Cup contender.

Raised on praise, they believed themselves exceptional—destined to soar above any flock. This overconfidence, this razor-sharp arrogance, defined the freshman Divine Maidens.

Honestly, Tilisha admired them. In their circles, tossing out a topic demanded someone who could catch it—someone knowledgeable enough to avoid becoming a laughingstock. For Tilisha, who preferred silence over performative chatter, this social dance was exhausting. She’d rather gain real experiences than waste time boasting about them. Books held more meaning than gossip.

Knowing she didn’t belong, Tilisha quietly claimed a seat and opened her book.

She felt eyes flicker toward her—not at *her*, but at her rough clothes and the scar on her face. Freaks always drew stares. After initial curiosity, gazes slid away with silent verdicts:

*Coarse peasant clothes. An ugly scar. A golden-haired ugly duckling.*

*A wild Divine Maiden.*

*And a failed one at that.*

Everyone knew wild Divine Maidens craved validation, often overcompensating with flashy clothes. Burdened by innate shame around "true" Divine Maidens, they desperately mimicked nobility to blend in. Those who didn’t even try? They clearly lacked the means. Such girls were stains on the Divine Maiden title—beneath notice.