If doubts could take shape, Xu Xi’s head would be filled with countless question marks at this mont.
He had prepared extensively for Krisa’s ditation attempt, expecting it to be a prolonged effort. Yet, against all expectations, she succeeded on her very first try.
“Krisa, tell how you felt during ditation,” Xu Xi asked cautiously.
“Yes… I saw it,” Krisa responded in a soft, obedient tone. Though her speech still stumbled occasionally, it was much better than when they had first t.
Through her description, Xu Xi confird that she had indeed succeeded. She had perceived the elents, felt the flow of magic, and tapped into her ntal power.
But why?
In the dimly lit ditation room, the pungent and slightly spicy aroma of Qingshen grass lingered in the air. Krisa, clad in a black magic apprentice robe, sat silently, awaiting Xu Xi’s next instructions.
Xu Xi stared at her, deep in thought.
“I succeeded in ditation because I had the most advanced red entry, supported by two purple entries. With those innate advantages, it was inevitable for to succeed.”
“But Krisa… she doesn’t have those things.”
Xu Xi began analyzing what could have led to her success. ditation, at its core, required talent, understanding, and a steady state of mind. Beyond these, there had to be sothing unique about Krisa—sothing that set her apart from other demons and humans.
“…I see. That’s it.”
Looking at the frail girl before him, Xu Xi fell silent. He understood now.
Krisa wasn’t a prodigy. She lacked the physical strength of a pure-blooded demon and the spiritual brilliance of humans. Her body was weak, tortured, and scarred from years of abuse. Her spirit was stagnant, dulled by prolonged despair.
Yet, it was precisely these qualities that allowed her to succeed.
ditation required an unshaken mind, free from emotion and hesitation. For most people, emotional fluctuations and overthinking caused failure.
But Krisa had no emotions to fluctuate. No thoughts to waver.
She was a blank slate, shaped only by fear and pain. Her tornted past had inadvertently given her the perfect state of mind for ditation.
“This truth is cruel,” Xu Xi thought, gripping his wand tightly.
Krisa’s natural aptitude for magic was extraordinary, but the price she had paid for it was devastating.
To verify his theory, Xu Xi asked Krisa to attempt several more magical exercises.
Each ti, she perford flawlessly. Whether sensing elents, establishing connections, or absorbing magic, Krisa displayed a genius-level ability.
“Well done, Krisa,” Xu Xi praised her as he squatted down to et her gaze. “Do you feel any discomfort?”
“No, Master,” Krisa replied, shaking her head. Her expression remained blank, devoid of the innocence and liveliness typical of a child. Her pale golden eyes held a deep void, a nothingness that was difficult to confront.
In many ways, Krisa was a complete failure—a girl who lacked not only physical health but also emotional responses. Yet, this very absence made her an exceptional elental mage.
Xu Xi decided to pause her training.
“Master?” Krisa tilted her head, her expression blank and slightly confused.
“Sit down, Krisa,” Xu Xi said, sitting cross-legged and patting the spot beside him.
Krisa obeyed, her oversized magic apprentice robe pooling around her thin fra as she sat. Her long gray-silver hair, which touched the ground, spread softly across the floor tiles.
The faint wind from Xu Xi’s breath brushed against Krisa’s cheek, filling her with a strange sense of peace.
“Krisa, can you tell about your past?” Xu Xi asked gently.
“My past…?”
“Anything is fine. I just want to know you better.”
“I understand, Master,” Krisa replied.
She didn’t understand why her past mattered, but as Xu Xi’s student, she felt it was her duty to obey.
So, under Xu Xi’s patient gaze, the young demon girl began recounting her story—a tale from long before Xu Xi arrived in this world.
The year she was born, Krisa t her biological mother.
Her mother was a succubus—a demon with large, curved horns, a strikingly human-like figure, and an iron ring locked tightly around her neck. Despite her confinent, her mother gazed lovingly at infant Krisa, her eyes gentle and full of sorrow.
Krisa never t her father, at least not in a aningful way. For the first three or four years of her life, her mother hid her from the world.
When Krisa finally saw her father, it was the first and last ti.
Her “father” violently dragged her from her hiding place and threw her out of a window into the wilderness.
Her mother tried to resist but was silenced by a scornful glare.
“You abomination… You disgrace… You have no right to live…”
Krisa couldn’t understand all the words at the ti. She only rembered her mother’s head being thrown out the window after her.
To this day, she vividly recalled the sight of her mother’s severed head, charred from burning and stripped of its once-majestic horns.
“Run…”
Even in death, her mother’s voice reached her. Despite being decapitated and burned, the demon’s tenacious life force allowed her to utter one final word to Krisa.
And so, Krisa ran.
She ran far from the ho that had never truly been hers.
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