It didn't take long after that.
Whispers turned to headlines. Headlines to summons.
The Royal Family of Arcanis sent an envoy within the week. A formal invitation was delivered under starlit escort, carried by knights wearing veils of honor silk. Selenne was requested—no, entreated—to join the Imperial Military as an elite commander. A symbol. A force. A continuation of a legend thought lost.
She declined.
No speeches. No defiance. Just a simple refusal delivered with such quiet certainty that no one pressed her twice.
Instead, she turned toward the Magic Tower.
Not to teach. Not to lead. To study. To refine. To ascend.
For years, she remained within its spiraling halls—emerging only briefly to give obscure lectures or walk beneath the open sky when the constellations shifted. Her research broke apart established mana constructs. She rewrote whole theorems. Entire magical systems were declared obsolete after her corrections.
And then—quietly, without spectacle—
