Hyperion looked at the familiar Capital City Ekrite, where she rembered why she was there.
It turns out that after school, Vivian wanted to go back to the palace and change into casual clothes first before going for a stroll with her.
She sat on the bench and waited for a mont, unintentionally falling asleep.
While she was thinking, she raised her head and saw a figure quickly approaching from the palace, it was her best friend, Princess Vivian of the Hutton Kingdom.
"Sorry for making you wait."
Vivian arrived carrying a small gift box, apologizing to Hyperion.
"It’s ok, I had just taken a little nap, I didn’t notice the ti passing."
Hyperion shook her head and responded with a smile.
The two walked along the newly renovated path by the canal, chatting and laughing.
"Oh, I can’t stand my brother anymore, you know? Today, Sofia asked him if he wanted to go see Craftsman Jera’s art exhibition, guess what his response was?"
Vivian kept sighing, paying no mind to the dignity a princess of Hutton Kingdom should have, seemingly having heard sothing absurd right after she returned to the palace and couldn’t help complaining to Hyperion imdiately.
"What did he say?"
Hyperion tilted her head curiously.
"He actually said ’Ah, that reminds , I need to hurry and ask if Duke Migaya is free, I’ve long wanted to go with him.’ Then he thanked Sofia and cheerfully went to find Duke Migaya. Sofia was almost green with jealousy."
"Although I shouldn’t laugh, but..."
Hyperion covered her mouth while listening to Vivian’s story, holding back her laughter with a sense of guilt.
Having these friends who grew up together in the capital by her side, she never felt alone.
However, for so reason, she felt that all these things seed to have happened before, as if she was just reliving it again, a strong... sense of déjà vu.
Even so, Hyperion felt very happy.
Scattered clouds floated in the afternoon sky, and a flock of birds flew by in the distance.
The breeze blew over from the river, gently caressing the two of them.
Suddenly, Hyperion saw her reflection in the river. Her pupils contracted sharply, and she covered the horns on her head in panic.
How could she make such a basic mistake!
She forgot to use disguise magic to appear human-like when going out!
However.
All Hyperion saw was Vivian looking at her in confusion.
"Hyperion, what’s wrong with you?"
Vivian moved a little closer and asked.
"You... didn’t you notice that I look like a half-demon right now?"
Hyperion also retreated a step and leaned against the stone sculpture railing on the edge of the moat.
"I did notice, so what’s the problem?"
Vivian beca more confused.
Dazed, Hyperion looked at the river, deep in thought.
In this Hutton Kingdom, people do not hate the Demon Race. Even if she appears in her original form and others see horns on her head, no one will find it strange.
What’s she afraid of?
"I was just thinking, everyone probably tolerates my half-demon identity because of my father, Duke Migaya, but…"
Hyperion seed to have been troubled by this question for a long ti and mumbled.
Upon hearing these words Vivian couldn’t help but laughed.
"It doesn’t matter, having characteristics different from ordinary people is not a novelty in Ichrite. There’s no need to care about so demon traits. There are all sorts of people in this world, each with different thoughts, but everyone can live in harmony, right?"
Accompanying her words, the distant noise, laughter, and the music from the musicians playing the zither made everything seem particularly peaceful.
Hyperion stared at Vivian in a daze. After a long while, she lowered her head, her lips curling up in a slight smile. This answer made her particularly happy, yet she didn’t want anyone to see the silly smile she was making at the mont.
The two walked together through Ichrite, a city where grand architectural complexes and splendid natural scenery seamlessly rged.
Upon reaching the bridge, Vivian paused and handed the gift box in her hand to Hyperion.
She smiled at Hyperion.
"Happy birthday, Hyperion."
...
anwhile, in reality.
// The fourth floor of Herram Prison.
A few newly arrived figures stood frozen like statues.
One even fell to the ground.
Not too long after, the echoed sound of high heels clicking against the tiled floor grew closer from a distance. She seed to be walking quite slowly yet confidently.
In the entrance hall, a female figure dressed in a jailer’s uniform finally appeared. The na "Selena" was etched on the naplate on her chest.
She was unaffected by the barrier of this level, able to keep her clarity.
But her approach didn’t seem to suggest she was intending to assist these five people. In fact, there was a faintly mocking smile at the corner of her lips. She seed amused, like she had discovered so curious little mice.
She stood in front of the unmoving Hyperion at the front, observing Hyperion’s expression and the magic fluctuation caused by the boundary of the fourth level.
Upon seeing Hyperion so engrossed in the dream, the jailor Selena chuckled and shook her head.
"Seems like a sweet little darling... Wouldn’t there be a lot of blood if her scars were exposed?"
...
Hyperion was taking a leisurely stroll on a path along the riverbed paved with stone slabs. The ancient buildings and bluestone walls along the path projected a deep, silvery color and faint shadowy black hues.
After parting ways with Princess Vivian, she started her solitary journey ho.
Her route ho from the Palace of Ichrite to Duke Alansar’s Mansion conveniently passed by Ichrite Academy.
Even a leisurely walk like this, spotting the academy ant her ho was not far off.
As she walked, a faint scent of sweet fruit and pastries wafted through the air.
"Delicious desserts that would lt your face in pleasure! ow ow!"
The repeated announcents from a magic device echoed through the street, while a wind chi hanging at the eaves of a shop by the roadside rang non-stop.
Hyperion looked over and saw an old-fashioned wooden house.
She paused, debating whether to buy sothing.
"Eh."
Hyperion touched her stomach, realizing she didn’t really crave desserts.
Neither she nor her father were particularly fond of sweet treats.
Considering this, Hyperion thought the desire might have stemd from the dream she just had, where she didn’t get to eat any desserts. This might have unconsciously triggered her to want to buy so now.
Shaking her head, Hyperion ignored the shop and continued her determined stride.
She had only just passed the shop before a voice behind her stopped her in her tracks.
"Hyperion."
It was a female voice she didn’t recognize.
Maybe it was her distinguishable silver hair tied with a red ribbon, or maybe the person was very familiar with her and recognized her at a glance.
Hyperion turned around to see two figures standing in front of the wooden shop.
One was a silver-haired woman who looked exactly like the portrait of her mother on her bedside table.
Beside the woman stood a mild-mannered man whose gaze seed to inadvertently dissolve all distances - an unbelievably handso man.
In that instant, it felt like forever.
Hyperion’s eyes began to sting as an inexplicable urge to weep consud her.
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