Regarding this imperial summons, it was initiated in Princess Wensidia’s name. Moyu truly couldn’t grasp the purpose behind this ceremony.

Though nominally to thank outstanding students from the last incident, she felt it couldn’t be that simple. If rewards were due, why wait until public interest had nearly faded? This clearly aimed to redirect the Imperial Capital’s attention to the court summons.

Well, perhaps Moyu Manatsu was overthinking it. But she always noticed details others overlooked.

“I really envy you, senior. Getting to see His Majesty the Emperor in person…”

Walking through the academy with her junior Josephine during lunch break, they strolled after eating.

“You’re capable of anything. Becoming a Dragon Knight so young, receiving medals from the Emperor himself—even Theos senior can’t compare. Honestly, I admire you so much!”

Seeing the pure adoration in the girl’s eyes, Moyu—trapped in Lunorette’s body—could only smile bitterly.

*Even prodigies have their struggles.*

“If you work hard, Josephine, you’ll be like me someday.”

She wasn’t sure if this encouragement would help, but she had to act like Lunorette.

“That’s true! Being close to you already makes me luckier than most. If I learn from you properly, I’ll become amazing too!”

Josephine’s reignited determination made Moyu smile faintly. *Girls with dreams are wonderful.*

Josephine wasn’t exceptionally talented—not like Saria and the others—but she shone brightly. Her relentless drive toward her dream made even aimless Moyu smile. That resolve was undeniably radiant.

Just as Josephine idolized Chief Student Lunorette, Moyu had once envied her too. Though they’d never truly met or grown close, Lunorette possessed everything Moyu lacked: friends, dreams, confidence, strength.

*She really did envy that perfect girl—even without ever seeing her.*

“Having a goal is good. Keep at it, junior.”

“Mhm! I’ll become a genius like you someday!”

“I look forward to it.”

Passing a corner of the academy, Moyu gazed at a central statue. Only extraordinary figures earned such a prominent spot. The sculpture depicted a young woman in knight’s armor, gripping the Holy Sword, her delicate features and poised figure radiating unwavering resolve.

*Audrey Weinberg. Archmage of the Miralstin Empire. Wielder of the Holy Sword Sophita. Once an elite imperial mage, she saved over a hundred thousand soldiers during the continental annexation wars, expanding the empire northward and cementing its dominance. She also founded Rockefeller Academy—the empire’s first magic institution—earning profound respect.*

They said this great figure never married, dedicating her life entirely to the nation. Moyu felt deep reverence. *This woman built this academy. She brought magic to the masses, giving commoners like me a chance to learn.*

“We’ve studied her countless times in history class. Didn’t you say you admired Chancellor Weinberg, senior?” Josephine giggled at the statue.

*Lunorette must’ve mentioned our first chancellor casually before,* Moyu thought.

She still didn’t fully understand this magic-filled world—but she wanted to. Without the body swap, Moyu might never have known this place existed, nor met Caina and the others.

Yet one thing remained unclear: *Why did she and Lunorette swap souls?* Logically, they belonged to separate worlds. One was the academy’s pride—a national genius. The other was a good-for-nothing NEET glued to online games. They shouldn’t have intersected at all.

*But fate was strange. It connected two opposites from different worlds, slowly weaving their lives together.*

“Yo, Lunorette.”

A voice cut through her thoughts. A hand clapped her shoulder.

“Saria?”

“What, cuddling with your junior? Boring. Count me in~”

Lately, Saria had been “kidnapping” (jokingly) Josephine under the guise of “senior care.”

“Ah, Senior Saria. Good afternoon.” Josephine smoothed her dress and curtsied like nobility—proper etiquette for a count’s daughter.

*Why isn’t she this formal with me?* Moyu wondered. *Is Lunorette not nobility? But she looks every bit a noble… Or is she, like Josephine, from a fallen house?*

As a commoner, Moyu couldn’t judge.

“Oh right—magic artifact class this afternoon. Can I borrow your notes?”

*Class… Ugh.* The thought made the school-hating girl sigh inwardly.

Lunch break ended soon. Guiding both girls back, Moyu trudged down the second-year corridor, dreading the afternoon lesson.

“Lunorette? Good day.”

A young man in teacher’s robes smiled warmly. He’d always favored this top student.

Recalling his profile, Moyu performed a flawless noble’s greeting.

“Good afternoon, Teacher Sergey.”

*Sergey Yeret. Magic Artifact instructor. Noble-born. Known for unique insights and student popularity. Lunorette apparently liked his classes.*

“Class starts soon. Head back early.”

He noticed nothing amiss in the girl before him, simply urging her to class.

Moyu bowed politely and hurried away—unaware of the gaze following her.

A golden-haired girl watched, her eyes holding sorrow, a trace of guilt, and scorching intensity. An almost predatory stare.

Only after Lunorette vanished into her classroom did Princess Wensidia turn away.

“Magic Artifacts draw on the user’s mental strength,” Sergey lectured. “Systematic training refines it. But personally? Two artifacts max. Three strains the brain. Mental strength shares traits with Mana, yet ties directly to the mind’s core.”

“Choose artifacts matching your traits—sword or spear users exist here. Crafting them is complex. Those aiming to become artisans must prepare for deep research.”

“Saria, demonstrate the usage.”

Students scribbled notes diligently. Even Moyu dared not slack off.

Rockefeller Academy remained peaceful today. No one noticed the storm gathering over the nation.

The faculty office stood empty. The Academy Chancellor was absent. Teachers chatted over tea, oblivious, preparing lessons as usual.

The imperial court glittered with opulent decorations. The summons chamber—normally guarded—held not a single soldier.

Chancellor Valianda sat rigid in his academy robes, barely breathing.

Before him sat a man a generation younger, yet radiating such authority and battlefield-hardened aura that Valianda felt like sitting beside a tiger. His crown and regal robes only heightened the effect.

“Why summon this old man, Your Majesty?”

Yes—this was the Emperor of the Miralstin Empire.

“No need for formality, Valianda. We’ve known each other long enough. Secrets between us are pointless.”

His voice was surprisingly gentle, contrasting his fierce appearance.

“I recall ordering you to conduct the Hero Summoning Ritual.”

*The ritual at the academy,* Valianda thought. *When the empire was vulnerable, under foreign surveillance…*

“I remember. But it failed. I followed the ancient texts precisely. Princess Wensidia gave her all as the royal conduit.”

“Such rituals are inherently uncertain.”

“True. We can’t dismiss the texts—but blind faith is folly. The failure proved that. Do you wish to attempt another summoning, Your Majesty?”

“You understand me. Frankly? I sense the world shifting. We need unknown power. If legends hold truth… other worlds exist.”

“…A savior from another world.”

The chancellor chuckled bitterly at the overused tale.

Between them lay a red-bound book. Its bold title was familiar to every child:

*Another World’s Savior.*