Chapter 31 – Besides Your Surna, You Likely Have Nothing Else
Class ended, and Professor Carlis left the room with his docunts in hand. The once-quiet classroom returned to its noisy and chaotic state.
Unaffected by her surroundings, Teresa remained seated, head lowered, her thoughts drifting as she gazed at her notebook brimming with written notes.
If even after her Divine Awakening she still received no prompts or reactions... would that an the awakening had no aning for her?
She wasn’t a born Divine Princess. She lacked knowledge and understanding of many Divine Princess-related concepts—such as the so-called Self-Appraisal.
Self-Appraisal was the unique skill Divine Princesses used to check the specifics of their Divine Authority Domain and Divine Authority. It was an innate skill exclusive to their profession.
But Teresa couldn’t sense any such ability in herself. She was completely unable to activate Self-Appraisal, and thus had no way of learning how her domain or divine power operated, or what dium might trigger them.
Maybe she could learn about it from the Divine Princess textbooks—but to her dismay, this crucial skill was ntioned only in passing.
“A Divine Princess’s innate ability, as natural to use as eating or drinking.”
That was it. No detailed explanation—just that one line. Nothing useful at all.
While so case reports did ntion that a fair number of Divine Princesses acquired the Self-Appraisal skill after awakening, Teresa was a particularly unusual case. If nothing else, the fact that she couldn’t even instinctively trigger her domain was already far from normal.
She couldn’t be sure whether she would gain the skill after awakening. For now, she felt absolutely nothing.
She had to maintain a strong sense of urgency. If even after awakening she still couldn’t use Self-Appraisal... then what?
A Divine Princess who couldn’t use her domain or divine power wasn’t worthy of being called a Divine Princess at all.
“You’re still poring over your notes after class? You’re certainly diligent, aren’t you?”
Just as Teresa was deep in thought, an untily voice interrupted her.
She looked up to find a girl in an ornate dress with curly brown hair seated beside her. The girl crossed one long leg wrapped in sheer black stockings and twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers, smiling at Teresa.
“You flatter ,” Teresa replied politely, closing her notebook.
She disliked being interrupted while reading or thinking. She also disliked unfamiliar people trying to strike up conversation uninvited.
She tilted her head, wondering—hadn’t her “don’t talk to ” aura and cold deanor been obvious enough? Why were people still approaching?
She glanced at the ever-smiling girl. Either this girl was completely clueless... or she had an agenda.
Judging by that smile—the second option seed far more likely.
Unless soone was deliberately picking a fight, Teresa saw no reason anyone would want to interact with a plain-dressed, scar-faced, unawakened Divine Princess like herself.
“How could it be flattery? It’s my first ti seeing you in this classroom. First day of class and you’re already this committed—very admirable,” the curly-haired girl said cheerfully.
Her words sounded like praise, but Teresa easily caught the subtext.
It’s my first ti seeing you here.
So where were you before? How many classes did you skip? And now you’re suddenly playing the diligent student—who are you trying to impress? The teachers? Your classmates?
Sotis, people pick fights for no real reason. They just don’t like the way you look.
Humans form groups based on shared identity, and toward those who clash with that identity, they show instinctive hostility and rejection.
Those who are rejected are deed “outsiders.” Fueled by a sense of superiority, this rejection often turns aggressive.
“I’m Irene Cardifen, second daughter of the Cardifen family—one of the Divine Princess households in the southern Empire. And you are?” she asked with a grin, hand over her chest in mock courtesy.
There was an unspoken rule among Divine Princesses: when one introduced herself and revealed her noble background, the other was expected to respond in kind. Even outside of Divine Princess circles, common etiquette dictated you return the favor with your na.
Yes, Irene’s intent was obvious—humiliate Teresa.
Teresa’s plain clothes and barely perceptible divine aura made it easy for the others to identify her as a Wild Divine Princess—soone without a noble family or surna. Introducing her own prestigious lineage was a way to put Teresa on the spot.
And if Teresa accused her of being deliberately condescending? There would be no proof. Irene could easily feign innocence: “Oh, I didn’t know she was a Wild Divine Princess!”
In the end, it would only make Teresa look petty.
A tiny curve lifted Irene’s lips. She wanted to see Teresa fumble, squirm, and awkwardly stamr out her response—utterly humiliated.
A Wild Divine Princess like her didn’t belong in this glittering place. Just being here was an insult to the Divine Princess Hall. And now, after her shaless show of diligence to win the teacher’s favor?
She needed to be taught a lesson.
“Teresa,” the girl replied calmly—much to Irene’s surprise.
Teresa gave a polite, faint smile and answered with composure, completely unbothered.
“My, Teresa? What a lovely na. Clearly, whoever nad you had so cultural refinent. Was it your mother, or your father, who chose it?” Irene continued, pressing further.
Divine Princesses from noble houses placed imnse value on etiquette. Even if they wanted to hurl insults, they would never do it crudely like street scoundrels. Instead, they’d cloak their barbs in roundabout sarcasm and mockery.
In other words, they were professionals at being two-faced.
The implication here was clear: Irene was suggesting Teresa must be a bastard child missing one parent. A textbook passive-aggressive dig.
“Neither.” Teresa shook her head and smiled indifferently. “I nad myself.”
“Haha, you’re quite the joker, Teresa. Who doesn’t have their na given by their parents? Did you na yourself the mont you were born?” Irene teased, her smile growing sharper.
“Co now, if you didn’t have soone to na you, just say so. No one’s going to mock your background. No need to be so stubborn, right?”
Her words drew chuckles from the surrounding classmates.
“A na, when you get right down to it, is just a label.”
But despite the sarcasm and snickering, Teresa’s expression remained unchanged—still smiling gently.
“I nad myself because, to , surnas are just labels. Apart from helping to distinguish people, they don’t matter. But I see you don’t quite agree, Miss Cardifen.”
She twirled a lock of her platinum-blonde hair between her snow-white fingers. Her soft smile blood like an angel’s, and her words sounded more like praise than poison.
“But I understand—you probably care so much about your surna because, well... besides ‘Cardifen,’ you likely have nothing else to offer.”
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