When Celia reached his residence, someone stood in front of his door.
A young woman froze the moment she saw her approaching, shock cracking through her voice. "Ce… Celia? You… You are alive?"
From the body's lingering memories, Celia recognized her.
Vienne. Her roommate.
"I'm tired," Celia said in a lazy tone. "I'm resting, Vienna. Don't disturb me for now."
She walked past her and pushed the door open without bothering to listen to her response.
Vienne stood frozen in place, mouth hanging open. "She really came back alive."
As the door closed and silence filled the room, Celia stood still for a long moment, then turned toward the mirror on the wall.
The face that looked back at her was unfamiliar and young.
Too young.
"That old man… What did you really do to me?"
Memories shifted.
More than a year in the Academy.
Celia didn't have a partner.
Not because she wasn't beautiful. She was quite beautiful enough to attract any man's attention. However, in this place, looks don't matter much. Yes, they do matter but they were more secondary.
The primary is one's foundation.
And that's why, despite countless failed attempts from the original Celia, who other females named her as shameless, because she asked many boys in the Academy to pair up with her… she had yet to find a partner.
She had a weak foundation and was 19 years old, past the sweet 17/18 year old, where one's talent cannot be increased anymore. And most importantly, still an Apprentice Hall apprentice.
With no backing.
No strength.
In simple words, a useless existence…
"If this really is rebirth…" She muttered in a low tone, as if she were complaining, "Then I woke up in the worst possible state."
In the Ravencrest's Apprentice Hall, apprentices were left to fend for themselves. No assigned partners. No guidance. If they wanted to cultivate, they had to find someone willing to pair with them.
Celia never did.
Not for lack of looks.
At first, many came.
Then they saw her talent.
Then either they left, or they just used her for their carnal desires and still left without pairing up. In the end, her reputation took a deep dive as the rumors about her being a wastrel who had the tendencies of a nymphomaniac were spread around.
"No one is foolish enough to bet their future on a pretty face," She said quietly.
The mirror reflected her faint smile.
"Even if that face once brought goddesses to their knees."
She leaned back against the wall and exhaled slowly. "That old man threw me into the mud…"
Her gaze lifted.
"But mud still leads to the sky."
For a brief moment, images flickered in her mind.
Men who once stood at the peak.
Figures who shook worlds.
Faces she once held.
"If they still exist in this world… I will find them again."
Her hand tightened into a fist as her eyes sharpened.
After cleaning herself, she crushed some medicinal powder and pressed it against the hole between her breasts. The medicine burned as it sank in. She wrapped the cloth tight, layer by layer, until the bleeding stopped and the pain dulled into a steady ache. Only then did she sit down on the edge of the bed and close her eyes.
By that time, the Apprentice Hall was already boiling.
"What? Celia beat Sapphire?"
"The same wastrel who is of no good use other than in bed?"
"I swear it! Sapphire stabbed her straight through the chest, then Celia roared, and everyone around the stage spat blood like fountains!"
"Bullshit. A shout did that?"
"I didn't believe it either until I saw Sapphire lying flat on the ground myself…"
The words spread through corridors and courtyards, from training grounds to resting halls.
Even Elder Kylan, who had personally ended the fight, found his thoughts drifting back to that instant. The pressure. The suffocating weight that crushed the air. The way his heart had stuttered inside his chest for a brief, terrifying moment.
Sapphire sat before him now, face pale, head pounding.
"What happened on that stage, girl?" Elder Kylan demanded. "Tell me everything."
Sapphire clenched her fists. Her voice sounded strained. "I stabbed her cleanly right in the heart. Before that… it was like sparring with a fool who had never learned to swing a sword. Then suddenly…"
Her breath hitched.
"It wasn't the same person anymore."
A shiver ran down her arms. "The moment my blade went in… the way she looked at me changed. It felt like my bones were being peeled apart by her eyes alone."
Silence lingered.
Elder Kylan's brows tightened. "That killing intent did not come from panic," He said slowly. "Nor from rage born in a moment. That kind of pressure comes only from walking the edge of death over and over again."
His gaze sharpened as he asked. "Who is Celia?"
Sapphire lowered her head. "I… I don't know."
"You may go," Elder Kylan said. "If I see you step onto a stage without permission again, you will not leave it so easily."
"This apprentice wouldn't dare."
After Sapphire left, Elder Kylan turned toward the records. He expected arrogance. Talent. A hidden lineage. Something that would make sense.
What he found instead left him staring at the page in silence.
18 months in the Academy.
No progress.
No partner.
A useless reputation of being a nymphomaniac?
He looked up slowly.
"Mental disorder… incapable of proper union… no talent…"
He turned to the elder beside him. "Is this… accurate?"
Elder Miel nodded. "The Apprentice Hall knows her well. That face and body keep her here, in case someone wants to release their stress. That's all."
Elder Kylan let out a long breath. "What a waste. Can't believe we have allowed such a girl into our Academy..."
"She might have survived if only her mind were sound," Elder Miel then sighed. "In this world, even a pretty face needs a spine."
Elder Kylan said nothing at first. The image of Celia's calm eyes rose again in his thoughts. That gaze. That stillness. That pressure.
"That girl looked nothing like this record today, though."
Elder Miel spread his hands. "Then all I can say is that something has changed."
Their talk drifted to other matters. To grandchildren. To future pairings. The weight of Celia's name slipped quietly into the shadows of Elder Kylan's thoughts.
*
When Celia finally opened her door again, the sun was already slanting low across the academy.
Vienne stood outside, eyes wide. Beside her was a handsome young man with broad shoulders and bright eyes: Philip, her roommate's partner.
"You're really alive…" He muttered in surprise.
"Still breathing," Celia replied casually.
"How's the wound?" Vienne then asked her with a bit of concern.
"Bug bite."
Vienne let out a short laugh. "Bug bite, huh…"
She stared at Celia's face a moment longer than before. Something about her felt wrong. The posture. The eyes. The quiet steadiness where foolishness once lived.
"You heading out?"
"Just walking," Celia said, already stepping toward the door.
"But your injury—"
"Still a bug bite."
After she left, Philip tilted his head. "She looks different today."
Vienne blinked. "You think so too?"
"She seems… sharper." Then he smiled faintly, adding. "Also more beautiful."
Vienne stared with a frown. "That's what you noticed?"
Philip laughed softly and grabbed her arms. "Relax. No matter how beautiful she becomes, you're still the one who shares my bed."
Vienna's ears turned red in blush.
Before she could reply, Philip pulled her toward the room. The door closed behind them, and the noise of the Apprentice Hall swallowed the last of their voices.
*
Within the Ravencrest stood a single building that never slept. Its doors opened from dawn to dusk, yet its breath never faded.
Apprentices passed through its gates every hour, their robes brushing against polished stone, their eyes filled with hunger.
This place was known as the Ravencrest Treasury. Inside, medicine rested beside weapons, spirit stones beside rare treasures. Anything a Spirit Warrior could desire waited behind its counters.
The only thing that mattered here was whether one could afford it.
The currency of this place was not gold or silver. It was Academy points.
These points held no meaning beyond the Academy's walls, yet within them, they decided everything. An apprentice could earn them through missions, through merit, or through transactions with others. With enough Academy points, one could climb through the ranks faster than even natural-born geniuses.
And right now, Celia stood before a long wooden counter.
Behind it sat an elderly man with narrow eyes and a calm, unreadable face.
"How much for this?" Celia asked quietly, "The Styx Flower."
The elder's fingers paused.
Her gaze lifted slowly. "Styx Flower?" She repeated. "Apprentice Hall Apprentices do not usually come asking for things like this."
"How much?" As Celia asked again, this time with a sharpened gaze, the elder leaned back slightly.
"Ten thousand."
The number settled into the air.
Celia's brows lifted just a little.
"Ten thousand?" Her voice was calm, but her eyes flickered. "The greatest difficulty mission barely rewards a hundred. And you want ten thousand for a single flower?"
She looked at the elder, arguing. "In the mortal world, this barely scrapes the rank of proper medicine."
The elder's expression did not change, and he replied flatly, "The Principal set the price. If you disagree, you may seek him out yourself."
Celia fell silent at that.
Her fingers tightened around the Academy token.
Then she sighed.
"Thirty-four," She muttered. "Two full years in this place… and only thirty-four Academy points. What a pitiful life..."
Hger gaze drifted across the wide hall. Apprentices moved in and out with their robes fluttering. Many young faces passed her eyes. Some proud. Some hopeful. Some desperate.
"I could simply take a partner," She thought calmly. "But these are all just boys, not even men..."
The original Celia had indeed slept with more than one man; that's a fact. However, not out of lust but out of desperation for a partner. And Celeste, this Celia… in her past life, she lived for centuries… she had taken in many partners, men and women, but they were all strong warriors, nobles, princes, princesses, and kings, even a Goddess, and the options she had at the moment are just a bunch of adolescents in the academy. It made her feel a bit wrong.
The elder tapped the counter impatiently, returning her thoughts to reality.
"So," He said. "Do you want it or not?"
"I do," Celia replied.
The elder frowned slightly, clearly not expecting a Common Division apprentice to have ten thousand Academy points.
"But not today." Celia raised his gaze and added. "In ten days, I will return with enough Academy points."
The elder stared. "You?"
Celia smiled softly and turned away.
The old man scowled at her retreating back, veins rising faintly along his wrinkled temple.