Hours passed as the carriage rolled through the moonlit night. Alteraz rested her hand on the cool glass, tracing faint patterns as hills and trees slipped by, their slopes outlined in silver under the soft wind. Night birds called in the distance and small villages glimmered like trapped stars. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the calm, letting it seep into her chest like a balm.
Her gaze drifted to Zhangxuan, seated across from her, absorbed in his book. He seemed untouched by the rocking of the carriage, calm and composed. Does he not feel motion sickness?, she wondered.
She studied him, the effortless composure, the quiet authority in his movements, the steady rhythm of his breathing that did not falter even when the carriage wheels struck uneven stone. Her attention had lingered far longer than intended, and the realization unsettled her more than she liked.
Sensing her gaze, Zhangxuan lifted his eyes.
Time seemed to pause for a heartbeat. The faint hum of wheels against gravel dulled, and the world narrowed to that quiet exchange
A quiet thought crossed Alteraz, Not even the view can compete with him.... A faint smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
She turned her eyes back to the window, letting the serene landscape soothe the abrupt intensity of her thoughts, though a flicker of annoyance stirred within her at how easily her composure had slipped.
On the other hand, Zhangxuan remained looking at her. He had grown accustomed to her indifference, the subtle walls she built whenever he was near, the faint edge of disdain that lingered in her gaze. She rarely allowed herself to display any warmth or amusement toward him. Yet now, for the briefest of moments, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
He had not expected this.
A page between his fingers paused mid turn before he resumed reading. The movement was small, almost imperceptible, but deliberate. He was caught off guard, seeing a side of her he had never witnessed. Then, as if nothing happened, he returned to his book, though the slight straightening of his posture betrayed his quiet acknowledgment.
After some time, the carriage entered a narrow stretch where trees arched overhead, forming a tunnel of darkness. Shadows shifted across the road and the wind whispered sharply. Alteraz noticed every sway of the branches, every glint of a distant lantern, every rustle of disturbed animals. Her senses sharpened instinctively, cataloging exits, distances, blind spots. Habits carved into her from a life where survival depended on noticing what others ignored.
Soon the trees thinned, revealing a towering castle with spires piercing the night sky. Massive gates gleamed with intricate metalwork and the walls shone faintly under the moon. Her chest tightened with awe. This castle had never appeared in the book she had read, yet here it was, far more magnificent than she had imagined. She traced the carved creatures along the walls before returning her gaze to the road, already measuring the architecture, defensive angles, tower placements, likely magical arrays embedded within the stone.
"Grandmaster, we have arrived in Kanzakh Kingdom," Ansley announced from outside.
Zhangxuan continued reading, but the name stirred recognition in Alteraz's mind.
Kanzakh Kingdom....
A small kingdom, modest yet decisive in its influence. She remembered the later parts of the novel, when the heroine had once received aid from this place, support that had turned the tide against the main antagonist. Some of that aid had come through someone whose influence was subtle and almost invisible, yet undeniable, a person said to have been saved by the heroine.
A faint, calculating smile tugged at her lips.
Observation would be key tonight.
If she could read the undercurrents of power here, she might uncover the kingdom's secrets and maneuver herself into the favor of the person behind them and if she secured that favor, she would gain something invaluable, leverage. An ally outside Zhangxuan's shadow. A safety net should his favor ever waver. Yet she noted the risk, a single misstep tonight could shift suspicion toward her instead.
At the castle gate, guards inspected each carriage, scanning documents and insignias. The emblem of House De Florencia and the presence of Archmage Zhangxuan drew immediate attention, allowing them to pass swiftly. Whispers trailed behind as they moved inside.
"Apologies for the inconvenience, Archmage Zhangxuan. You may enter," a guard said, bowing.
The carriage shuddered as darkness swallowed it. A weight pressed against her chest. Shapes of light streaked past in rapid motion, forming fleeting, almost recognizable patterns. Her stomach lurched. Teleportation, she realized, tracking the shifting energy instinctively. Zhangxuan noticed her subtle movements, a faint flicker of amusement in his expression. Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure released, and solid ground returned. The air carried the scent of polished marble and delicate incense.
Stepping onto the courtyard, Alteraz adjusted her gown, taking in the crystal fountains and flowing magic woven seamlessly in the surroundings. The water shimmered with faint enchantments, each droplet reflecting light like scattered gems. She stayed close to Zhangxuan, wary of getting lost amid the grandeur, or worse, appearing as though she did not belong.
Inside, the palace was a vision of controlled elegance, chandeliers glittered from painted ceilings, magical lights floated above tables, and desserts hovered perfectly chilled above silver trays. Nobles moved gracefully across polished floors, conversations quiet and precise. Yet beneath the refinement lay calculation, alliances forming in subtle glances, rivalries masked behind polite smiles. Alteraz felt a prickle along her spine, the tension vibrating subtly beneath the surface, a reminder that every glance could hide a knife.
A noble approached and bowed to Zhangxuan, eyes flicking toward Alteraz with a hint of surprise. A group of nobles followed, offering polite greetings, their attention hesitant, whispers threading through them. They had not expected to see her accompany him, given the distant, somewhat estranged relationship between master and disciple according to the rumors. A few studied her attire, her posture, searching for proof that gossip held truth.
Alteraz moved gracefully, observing the subtle shifts in hierarchy and authority, who greeted first, who stepped aside, and who avoided eye contact. Influence rarely announced itself loudly, it revealed itself in hesitation.
Time stretched as formalities dissolved. Alteraz moved gracefully through the crowd, wandering through the palace while Zhangxuan remained occupied with the nobles. Ansley followed closely behind her, eyes alert and attentive. Alteraz's gaze caught a table arranged with delicacies, each piece displayed with careful precision. She sampled a small pastry, more for composure than hunger. The nobles watched her movements, though it was difficult to discern whether their attention leaned toward admiration or skepticism. Then, she reached for a drink.
When she lifted a glass and turned back toward the hall, her heel caught lightly against the marble, not enough to seem clumsy, but enough to disrupt her balance. She collided with someone behind her, red wine spilling across a pristine white gown in a dark crimson bloom that spread too quickly to ignore.
Ansley, who never left her side, steadied her before she could fall completely.
"I apologize," Alteraz said evenly, inclining her head.
The noblewoman's eyes flicked to the stain, then to Alteraz herself, her lips curling subtly. Her first words were deceptively mild, questioning her composure. "You seem calm, far too calm for someone who just ruined my dress. Do you even understand proper decorum?"
A few nearby nobles leaned in slightly, attentive.
Alteraz kept her gaze lowered, maintaining perfect composure.
A flicker of recognition crossed the noblewoman's eyes. "Wait… you—" she began, then paused, lips curling into a smirk. "You are Alteraz, the disciple of the great Archmage Zhangxuan? I had heard rumors, but seeing you here, so ordinary, so small."
Her tone sharpened, edged with malice, her confidence bolstered by subtle glances at the nobles nearby, particularly toward a cluster bearing the crest of a rival faction known for opposing House De Florencia's influence. Their faint nods suggested she had backing. Rumors had circulated that Alteraz and Zhangxuan were estranged, and she leveraged that, emboldened to mock without fear.
"To think the great Archmage takes in someone like you who can't even act properly in these events...," the noblewoman continued, voice dripping with disdain. "You are indeed a girl of low birth, an orphan with no manners, yet you display yourself as someone of great power. How ridiculous."
The mockery was clearly aimed at the original Alteraz, yet it struck her as well. In her previous life, her hardships had been far harsher, and she had struggled simply to survive. Being reminded of her humble beginnings sparked a quiet anger, though her expression remained calm. She hated it when people ridiculed her past. She already knew it all too well, and there was no need for anyone to point it out.
The noblewoman's lips curved cruelly. "And yet, here you are, among nobility. Do you think cleverness and borrowed reputation can hide where you came from? Do you think being a disciple of Zhangxuan erases the dirt under your nails, the hunger, the cold nights? A girl from the slums, no less. How audacious or foolish. Your every step, gown, manners clumsy. You stand as if you earned this place, yet the only thing you have truly earned is the world's contempt. A street rat pretending to be a lady."
Alteraz's chest rose and fell steadily. She did not flinch or respond right away. She kept every insult in mind, memorizing tone, phrasing, alliances revealed in laughter.
The noblewoman leaned closer, fingers tracing faint traces of mana in the air. "And do you think standing beside Archmage Zhangxuan shields you from reality, from consequence?"
Alteraz met her gaze evenly, not saying anything.
The hall grew tense. Conversations faltered. A glass shattered somewhere in the distance. The noblewoman had expected shame or anger, some sign that her insult had struck true, but the girl's calm remained unshaken. That indifference offended her more deeply than any retort could have. Her pride stiffened, and the mana at her fingertips flared brighter, sparks snapping audibly in the air, singeing the marble beneath her heels.
The noblewoman paused briefly, letting the silence hang. "Will you answer me, or will your silence prove I am right?"
Alteraz allowed a controlled, sly smile, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. If she insists on telling the world about my upbringing, might as well act like one, she thought, letting the idea twist into quiet defiance. "You know what? From all the things you have said, I can only say three things. Your dress is unattractive and it really does not suit you. I merely thought it needed some improvement."
A few of the nobles nearby let out quiet chuckles, poorly concealed behind gloved hands.
Then she snapped.
The noblewoman's eyes blazed. Flames erupted from her palms, scorching the air with blistering heat, while jagged arcs of lightning tore across the marble floor, leaving blackened fractures in their wake. The chandelier above flickered violently, crystals trembling as heat distorted the air. Servants fled toward the walls. Alteraz reacted instinctively, pivoting toward a column to her left. She ducked beneath a streak of lightning that singed the edge of her sleeve, the scent of burnt fabric rising sharply. A wave of fire rushed forward, she overturned a silver tray, using its surface to deflect the worst of the heat. The impact jarred her arms painfully.
Talk about being fair...
Alteraz's eyes darted frantically around the hall, searching for any sign of intervention. Ansley, ever near her side, remained motionless, expression calm and detached. Panic flared in her chest. Why is he not helping? Every instinct screamed at her to flee, to defend herself, to summon magic, yet she could not. The original Alteraz's skills, her soul weapon, her spells, all locked behind tampered memories and were inaccessible to her current self. She can only rely on her agility, wits, and instincts she accumulated in her past life.
Then she searched the hall for the other person, only to see him doing nothing, just watching her from afar, sipping tea. His fingers rested lightly against the porcelain cup. The surface of the tea did not ripple despite the violent tremors in the room.
Sh't...
Alteraz scrambled to survive, sliding across polished marble as lightning split the floor where she had stood moments before. Heat lashed at her back. She deflected a narrow bolt with the edge of a serving cart and kicked it toward the noblewoman to disrupt her line of sight. A column cracked under impact, debris scattering across the hall. Nobles pressed themselves against the walls and did nothing, some wide-eyed, others whispering in restrained fascination, while others stole anxious glances at Zhangxuan, wondering if he would finally intervene.
"You dare mock me in front of everybody!", the noble lady screamed.
Then there it is...
The final attack surged forward, a lethal, condensed strike of mana aimed to obliterate her. The air compressed violently, sound warping under the sheer density of power. Marble beneath Alteraz's feet fissured outward in spiderweb cracks.
Her gaze shifted to Zhangxuan once again, but this time, he was looking at her intently. Panic came first, then confusion, and gradually, she began to understand.
He is testing her.
Seated and still, his gaze was sharp and relentless. Every move she made, every decision, every instinct was being quietly observed. Zhangxuan had allowed the commotion to continue, not by chance, but deliberately to test her. He wanted to see how she would react under pressure, whether her lost memories were real, and whether her desire to become his disciple this time was genuine.
Piece by piece, she began to see the pattern, each action she took was weighed, each choice scrutinized, reflecting not just her own cunning, but the deliberate, calculating mind of the master evaluating her...
A sly smile curved her lips.
Master, testing me like this… aren't you afraid that I might test you back?
The attack came near. She calculated the distance, four heartbeats before impact, perhaps three if it accelerated.
He would intervene at the last second
He would not allow his disciple to die before so many witnesses.
His pride alone would not permit it.
Thoughts surged violently on Alteraz's mind, she was gambling on his nature as much as his power.
She was at the edge, with no room to escape, yet she did not move. She planted herself squarely in the path of the roaring energy, as if seized by a sudden, dangerous thought.
Well then, master if I stay here, will you let me die?
The nobles around them gasped, convinced she had lost her mind.
Yet beyond their shallow judgement, her action was far from madness. It was a direct provocation.
The raw power swept past, close enough to sear her senses but leaving her intact. Her chest heaved, her vision blurred, yet her eyes found his across the hall. In that silent exchange, every motion became a wordless question, every heartbeat a challenge:
Would he actually let her get killed?
Then, as if on cue, a sharp snap of fingers echoed softly through the hall. Ansley , who seemed restrained a while ago, moved with perfect timing, intercepting the spell before it could reach her.
Sparks danced along the marble floor, harmless fragments scattering into the air. The noblewoman struggled, frustrated and restrained, while the hall exhaled as tension dissolved into whispers.
Alteraz staggered back, her body screaming from the previous attacks, muscles trembling with exhaustion.
Accross the hall, her gaze met Zhangxuan's again. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched his lips, betraying a flicker of surprise. He had not expected her to openly challenge him, to risk herself in such a deliberate, calculating way. Her every move had revealed a boldness he had not anticipated, a subtle defiance threaded through skill and instinct. In that quiet, tense moment, their unspoken duel was laid bare and even he found himself yielding to the trap she had set before him.
He watched to see what she would do, and she watched to see how far he would let her go.
Pain still throbbed through her body, yet clarity and quiet triumph settled in her chest. A slow, mischievous warmth threaded through her exhaustion.
"So you care, huh," she whispered, letting the words hang in the silent aftermath of the trial as her surroundings gradually turned dark.