Imperial capital, Etheric Square.
Ravenna, engrossed in her book on the bench, was perusing a hefty to. The ancient text embossed in gold on the spine testified to the book's considerable worth.
However, as she read, her brows gradually furrowed, and a deepening expression of disdain surfaced on her usually indifferent face.
"Why must so equate antiquity with truth?" she murmured indifferently, a young sorceress of so repute, yet controversial in academic circles.
She set the book aside.
"... Such trash requires a significant allocation of resources to access at the Etheric Academy."
She scoffed, then from the inner pocket of her long coat, she pulled out… a stack of letters.
Ravenna began to read these letters, and in no ti, the perennial iceberg on her face began to lt at a visible pace.
Contrary to her increasing disdain while reading the ancient book, her eternally cold, almost emotionless, purple eyes began to glow with a vibrant and captivating light.
Her head moved slowly with her gaze on the letters, her absorption and evident joy were as if she was savoring so unparalleled delicacy.
— Even though she had read these letters dozens of tis, the earliest one, more than a hundred tis.
Today, she did not invest her invaluable ti in endless learning and research, but instead, she was waiting for the pen pal who had been sending her these letters intermittently.
A genius whom she willingly admitted was far superior to her in design and innovation.
To be honest, Ravenna couldn't rember the last ti she felt this emotion called "anticipation".
The first ti she read a book, the first ti she manipulated ether, the first ti she used a spell... As she grew older, there were fewer and fewer things that Ravenna looked forward to, and more and more things that she despised.
Until now, she, who had only learning and creation in her life, finally welcod that anticipation again.
An anticipation that swayed her spirit.
Tap, tap, tap—
The sound of a scepter approached, but Ravenna, still engrossed in the handwritten letters, did not notice.
"Um... hello, miss."
"..."
The interruption of her reading made Ravenna look up, her icy expression probably enough to scare a child into running back to their mother.
However, what appeared before her... was indeed a child.
To be precise, a boy transitioning from childhood to adolescence.
He had radiant, beautiful blond hair that reminded one of a gentle, non-dazzling warm sun. His face, both immature and increasingly handso with age, had a terrifyingly lethal charm for won of all ages.
Especially those pure yet profound sea-blue eyes.
— But Ravenna was not swayed by this, no matter how good-looking the boy before her was, she only knew that this little devil had disrupted her reading experience.
"If you have sothing to say, say it," Ravenna stared at the boy, who was clearly of noble birth and extraordinary background, and said expressionlessly.
Normally, any child would have been scared off by her tone and expression, but this aristocratic boy just tilted his head and slowly smiled.
Ravenna hated that smile and the people who wore it, because they were troubleso, very troubleso, more cunning than a fox, and slipperier than an eel.
"Although I wasn't very sure at first," he said leisurely, "but now, judging from your tone and deanor..."
"You are Venna, aren't you?"
Ravenna was stunned.
Venna — this was the na that her pen pal, who called himself "Faust", used to address her in his letters.
Ravenna had always believed that this pen pal must be a middle-aged or even elderly scholar, hidden among the common people, frustrated, but possessing astonishing talent.
Before this encounter, Ravenna had even made up her mind to beco this scholar's assistant, no matter the cost or sacrifice.
But...
But what was going on?
Why was the genius who proposed so many groundbreaking ideas in his letters... a twelve or thirteen-year-old blond boy?
Or was it...
"You..."
Ravenna's expression stiffened, but it seed that she suddenly thought of sothing, and her tone beca very unnatural: "Faust, do you also like to act through puppets?"
"Puppets?"
The boy in front of her, who used Faust as his pen na, couldn't help but laugh: "Venna, what kind of image do I have in your eyes that makes you so shocked that you think I am a puppet?"
"..."
"So, since we have t, let introduce myself formally."
The boy, dignified and composed, tapped the ground with his scepter and bowed slightly: "I am your pen pal Faust, real na Ansel."
"Ansel..."
The boy, with his head slightly lowered, hid the dead silence and malice in his sea-blue eyes to the deepest extent.
Then, he raised his head again, smiling brightly:
"Ansel of Hydral."
*
mories remain mories.
Yet now, Ravenna cannot help but reminisce about those tis.
The Hydral who still called herself "Venna".
She was not one to dwell on the past, but the events unfolding now brought her fragnted mories uncontrollably to the forefront of her mind.
"Ansel, what are those bubbles floating in the sky?"
"Congealed ether clusters, replenishing ether for students practicing spells here."
"Ansel, why do these staircases float?"
"Ah... the Etheric Academy uses magic for aesthetic purposes, I suppose."
"Ansel, Ansel..."
Walking ahead, Ravenna listened to the endless chatter of the seemingly brainless guy behind her and took a deep breath.
The genius who spent his days discussing magi-tal fraworks and ether circuits with her, experinting and creating a masterpiece that transcended ti, now patiently and ticulously answered one simple question after another like a nanny.
And it even seed that he enjoyed it.
On the second floor of Yuktreshil, Conrad showed Ansel the foundation of the Etheric Academy in the elental path. As the most commonly used spells, elents were considered the cornerstone of matter, and thus, as the second major category, they were placed above the extraordinary ether.
"Ninety percent of abilities are in the manipulation of elents, often the stereotype people have of sorcerers."
Conrad smiled and said, "Although most of our commonly used spells are related to elents, this view is as big a misconception as thinking that warriors have no understanding of manipulating ether."
As he spoke, Conrad respectfully bowed slightly to Seraphina, "For example, Miss Marlowe can shatter spells with a punch... this is undoubtedly sothing that only soone with a deep understanding of ether can achieve."
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