Unlike other races, the Elves don't reproduce through traditional mating, pregnancy, and childbirth.
The continuation of their species relies entirely on the Tree of Life located at the center of the Forest of Freyst.
Every elf begins their life as a fruit borne on the Tree of Life.
When the fruit matures and falls, it transforms into a young elf.
Elves who fall from the same branch determine their sibling relationships based on the order in which they dropped—those who fall earlier are considered the older siblings.
As for the Elven Saintesses, they are elves born from the main trunk of the Tree of Life. While rare, they are not unique—several appear each year.
Illya and Edith were both born from the main trunk over twenty years ago.
Since Illya dropped first, she is the elder sister.
However, in everyday life, Edith plays more of the big sister role, often fussing over Illya's daily needs.
—
By now, Illya's class had ended, but the students weren't in a rush to leave. Instead, they crowded eagerly around the podium, "seriously" asking Illya questions about magic circles.
Illya, completely unaware that these brats were just admiring her beauty, answered each of their questions with dedicated patience.
It wasn't until the next class was about to begin that the students reluctantly left the room for their next lecture.
But once they stepped outside and saw Edith standing nearby, their expressions all changed. None of them dared make eye contact as they quickly scattered in every direction—leaving Ron chuckling at the scene.
Arms crossed, Edith sneered coldly. She tapped her finger on her arm, waiting until everyone was gone before sighing and walking into the classroom.
Ron stayed outside, but he could clearly hear Edith's voice echoing from within.
"I've told you so many times—if you're going to be a teacher, act like one! Have some authority! Those little punks don't come here to learn. They just want to gawk at your pretty face!"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop… But seriously, give up on that dream of making magic circles accessible to everyone. It's just not realistic…"
"I bought dinner already. It's on the table in your room—please remember to eat! Don't bury yourself in research again and skip meals!"
Edith rattled off a whole list of reminders, only stopping once she walked out of the classroom alongside Illya.
"Oh, right—Illya, this is Ron André, Seventh Prince of the Human Empire," Edith said by way of introduction. "Your Highness Ron, this is my elder sister, Illya."
"Your Highness," Illya greeted softly, her quiet and gentle demeanor back in place. She performed a formal elven greeting unique to her people.
"Saintess Illya." Ron returned the gesture politely while taking a good look at her.
Now that they were face-to-face, Ron realized Illya was a full head taller than Edith—only a few centimeters shorter than himself.
Looking more closely, he noticed that Illya's legs were long and well-proportioned, though mostly hidden beneath her flowing skirt. No wonder he hadn't noticed earlier.
So that's where her special trait lies… Ron thought silently.
Illya clearly had little interest in anything outside of magic circles. After giving Ron a courteous smile and nod, she quietly excused herself.
Ron could tell immediately that her gaze wasn't focused—she was clearly deep in thought, likely pondering some aspect of her research.
After she left, Edith offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, Your Highness. That's just how she is. When she's not talking about magic circles, she's like a completely different person. Don't take it personally."
Ron smiled and shook his head, not minding at all.
His soul came from a world where equality was a core value. He'd never really bought into the strict hierarchy of this world, and being a prince didn't make him feel superior.
Besides, he thought, she's a pretty elf girl. What's there to be upset about?
Edith let out a breath of relief and smiled. "Alright then—shall we head to the training field to start your magic lessons?"
"Sure. Thanks for doing this."
—
At the outdoor training grounds of the Magic Academy, Assistant Instructor Mason was teaching a dozen newly advanced Tier 1 mages how to cast the Earth-Tilling Spell.
These students had just progressed from mage apprentices, having successfully formed a mana seed and officially stepped into the realm of magic.
Thanks to the newly opened Nether Orchid Meditation Chamber inside the Mage Tower, the number of breakthroughs in recent days has skyrocketed.
Many apprentices who had previously struggled with poor talent or inefficient meditation finally had the help they needed to advance—especially the "older" ones who had been stuck for ages.
With the help of the Nether Orchid, a whole group of "senior" apprentices had finally broken through. It was a major milestone for the academy.
Of course, this surge also meant a heavier workload for the assistants.
Teaching apprentices only required classroom lectures on theory. But once they became full-fledged mages, practical spell training became essential.
Still, early attempts were rarely successful.
Even with a firm grasp on theory, getting mana to flow correctly through one's body was an entirely different challenge.
Mason's students were attempting the Earth-Tilling Spell for the first time today. Despite his thorough explanations, they still had to fumble their way through it on their own.
So far, the best anyone had managed was stirring up a puff of dust.
Mason stood by the sidelines, bored out of his mind. He occasionally responded to a few questions but was mostly daydreaming about when class would end so he could meet up with Edith and Harper to hit the barbecue place and play some Element cards.
Now that he had advanced to Tier 4, he didn't have much ambition left.
Even with the help of the Nether Orchid, he knew his talent wasn't enough to become a high-level mage.
Apart from learning a few mid-tier spells from Professor Hicks, he had no real goals anymore.
Ironically, he now found games like Elemental cards more fun and fulfilling than magic.
I must be getting old, Mason thought, shaking his head.
Then he noticed a wave of whispered chatter among the students.
"Hey, isn't that Edith?"
"Whoa~ I haven't seen her in days."
"Y'all like that type? I think Illya's the real deal!"
"Ugh, you and your leg obsession! Edith is the true man's choice!"
"Pfft—then go talk to her."
"Uh… cough, cough… Look! A man is walking with her!"
"They're laughing! No way—are they close?"
"Hey… that guy's kinda… pretty, huh?"
Mason rolled his eyes at the conversation and followed their gazes toward the entrance of the training grounds—just in time to see Edith and Ron walk in together.