Crash!

Reiana panted heavily, still unsatisfied even after smashing every single object in the room.

She had intended to land a blow on Tanashia, but instead, Reiana herself got hit.

The fact was unbearably infuriating.

‘If an ordinary person took a hit like that, they’d definitely be crippled.’

From the very moment she targeted Ascan, she never intended to let him go easily. That’s why her assault, from start to finish, showed no mercy.

Yet no matter how much she beat him, Ascan never once cried out in pain—not only that, but though blood flowed, his bones never seemed to break.

Reiana had plenty of experience beating people up. As time passed, she began to feel something was off.

─Wait, you all leave. We’ll handle the rest ourselves.

─Yes, Miss.

To confirm the suspicion growing in her heart, she deliberately dismissed the men she’d brought along.

Reiana didn’t merely beat Ascan—she used her wind ability for a specific reason.

She wanted to test him.

How would he react?

Would wounds inflicted by ability leave a mark?

Instinctively, she realized: Ascan’s body was far too sturdy compared to an ordinary person. That’s why she sought to satisfy her curiosity.

Unfortunately, Tanashia appeared and ruined everything.

‘No, not entirely without gain.’

Thanks to Tanashia’s arrival, Ascan was forced to use the power he’d been hiding so tightly.

It was the power to manipulate fire—one of the four elemental forces.

That a mere slave possessed an ability was, in many ways, utterly unbelievable.

‘Yes, I was right after all. There’s definitely a reason Tanashia treasures Ascan so much. She wouldn’t treat a lowly slave as something special without cause.’

Reiana’s suspicion hardened into certainty. Clearly, Ascan’s body held some hidden secret.

Seeing that Tanashia quietly withdrew and hasn’t spoken of the incident to this day only made Reiana even more intrigued.

‘What exactly is it? What is Ascan’s true identity…?’

Right now, since Tanashia held leverage over her, Reiana couldn’t act freely—but if Reiana could obtain the same leverage, she’d stand on equal footing with Tanashia.

No—perhaps she could even secure a more advantageous position.

It was while Reiana was turning these thoughts over in her head that Shasha, who had silently witnessed Reiana’s misdeeds until now, timidly opened her mouth with a fearful expression.

“B, Brellof Young Lady—if she doesn’t let us off easily, what will we do? Thinking back, we acted far too foolishly…”

“Shasha.”

Reiana looked at Shasha with an annoyed expression.

Some people always softened too late, after the damage was already done. Fortunately, Reiana, through repeated experience, knew exactly how to handle such individuals.

“Do you regret what you did to Brellof Young Lady?”

“I, I don’t regret it exactly, but if we go apologize now and admit we were wrong…”

“Go ahead, then.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Do whatever you want—no need to worry about anyone’s opinion.”

Just as Shasha, relieved, was about to leave the room—

Reiana, leaning lazily against the wall while filing her nails, continued speaking.

“Oh, by the way—I heard that guy we beat up last week had the nerve to report us. His family’s making a huge fuss demanding compensation. Would it be okay if they contacted your family about it?”

“What? I wasn’t the only one who hit him back then!”

“It happened because Shasha swung the club clumsily. If you don’t believe me, go prove it in front of everyone.”

“Th, that…!”

Shasha froze mid-step, staring at Reiana with a despondent expression.

Inwardly, Reiana smirked—but outwardly, she tried her best to maintain a benevolent expression.

Beating people wasn’t just about relieving stress. Though admittedly, she’d grown to enjoy it along the way.

As an illegitimate child, Reiana held little standing even within the Krisha family, and since her mother was a hostess, she had no maternal relatives to rely on.

The only people over whom Reiana could wield power were slaves or commoners.

So she exploited them to uncover weaknesses among noble young ladies.

Having spent her childhood beside her hostess mother, what Reiana learned on the streets was how to exploit noble weaknesses and extract money.

First, she’d approach them warmly, then invite them to secretive games. And inevitably, the nobles who learned “new things” would make mistakes.

Reiana was using those mistakes to expand her network—and that was precisely the power of someone who owned nothing.

‘Still, I really thought Tanashia was my friend…’

Reiana recalled the past and found herself smiling bitterly. Clearly, approaching things as business was better than giving away her heart—it only led to loss.

Shasha trembled all over, her body shaking like an aspen leaf.

“If my family finds out about this, I might be… kicked out…”

“Oh? That’s unfortunate. Why don’t you go beg Brellof Young Lady for forgiveness and ask her to resolve this matter too?”

“What?”

“I thought we were friends, so I looked into various ways to handle it for you. But if Shasha doesn’t share my intentions, there’s no reason for me to intervene.”

“…!”

Shasha’s expression changed.

Personally, Reiana loved this moment. It felt like gaining a loyal dog.

“Well, I was wrong. It’s unthinkable to go find Brellof Young Lady now.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I should think about how to repay her exactly what she did to us.”

As she spoke, Shasha naturally glanced at Reiana, as if seeking approval for her actions.

Reiana grinned and nodded approvingly.

“Good thinking. We don’t have much, but we can’t stand being pushed around.”

“That’s right. Exactly!”

It was true. Reiana owned little, but she’d learned betrayal must be punished harshly—otherwise, anyone would betray her.

That was precisely why she wouldn’t let Tanashia, who’d pretended to be her ally only to betray her, go unpunished.

‘You underestimated me, Tanashia.’

Illegitimate child of the Krisha family, ordinary magic power, unremarkable ability—all words describing Reiana, yet one crucial word was missing.

Vicious.

Once Reiana sank her teeth in, she wouldn’t let go like a rabid dog.

Tanashia was now her target. She wouldn’t release her—not even in death—until Tanashia paid the price for betrayal.

The academic festival, which had lasted several days, finally ended.

Though I’d spent almost the entire time bedridden except for the beginning, somehow I’d become the festival’s most famous figure.

Unlike when I’d arrived, I returned to Brellof Manor accompanied by Noxia—because she’d begged to ride in the same carriage.

Though our luggage was split between two carriages as usual, so the weight hadn’t increased, the carriage moved slower than normal.

I’d told them it wasn’t necessary, but the coachman had deliberately slowed down, worried my injuries might worsen.

“Yaaawn.”

I yawned without realizing it.

Already weakened from lying in bed after being hit by Reiana’s ability, the slow carriage ride made me unbearably bored.

Ascan was so thorough—he insisted I remain completely still until my wounds healed, so I couldn’t even say goodbye to Dekain.

I’d left a note requesting the preliminary contract from Igtheon Trading House be sent to Brellof Manor; if they received it, they’d surely contact me somehow.

Just as I was growing restless and tossing about—

Noxia, gazing out the carriage window, spoke in a bright voice.

“Oh! Sister, looks like a fortune teller’s here.”

“Fortune teller?”

Curious, I turned my gaze toward the window.

In this other world, fortune tellers didn’t stay in one place—they wandered from town to town, telling fortunes whenever they felt like it.

Of course, nobles could summon renowned fortune tellers if they wished, but no one in the Brellof family placed much stock in fortune-telling.

I, too, considered it mere entertainment.

“Judging by the long line, must be a pretty famous one?”

I murmured softly, watching Noxia’s eyes sparkle with curiosity.

“Shall we get our fortunes told too?”

“Really?”

The old me might have just passed by, but right now, after lying sick for so long, I was terribly bored.

“Well, no reason not to.”

I immediately told Jerin to stop the carriage.

Noxia, Ascan, and I donned long robes to conceal our faces and clothing, then stepped down to visit the fortune teller.

We hid our noble status to avoid unwanted attention—and also because the fortune teller might sugarcoat things if she knew who we were.

The line looked long, so I slipped the man handing out queue tickets some extra coins—and our turn came quickly.

Swish. Pushing aside the tent flap, I saw an interior decorated with a certain mystique.

A round table held a glass orb, and the fortune teller—a white-haired old woman—wore a hood covering half her face.

Sitting opposite her, I understood why she concealed her eyes.

Her pupils were pure white—no irises. She seemed blind.

“I only tell one fortune per person. Speak your most pressing question.”

Beside me, Noxia’s eyes gleamed with nervous excitement at the fortune teller’s mysterious voice.

I gestured for Noxia to ask first. She nodded and spoke in a slightly trembling voice.

“I want to know about my destined partner.”

I barely suppressed a laugh.

Destined partner? A perfectly reasonable curiosity for a 15-year-old girl.

“You have already met your destined one. The wheel of fate is already turning. Though the final outcome remains uncertain, there is one thing you must never forget.”

“Never forget what?”

“Yes. Always strive to see the truth. Too many things around you will obscure your vision.”

It was a vague answer.

Noxia didn’t seem to fully grasp the fortune teller’s meaning, but she smiled contentedly—perhaps simply enjoying the experience itself.

“Understood. Now it’s your turn, Sister.”

With Noxia’s question concluded, it naturally became my turn.

From the start, I’d had only one burning question—so I asked without hesitation.

“How long is my lifespan?”

All my efforts and choices were for survival. Naturally, my greatest curiosity was how long my life would last.

As long as I could avoid death routes, I had no complaints about my current life.

“You… I see two paths before you.”

“Two paths?”

“One is a short life, the other a long one. Your future depends entirely on the choices you make.”

I didn’t mean to dismiss the fortune teller, but honestly, I could’ve given this kind of reading myself.

A lifespan with two possibilities? A prediction impossible to disprove—somehow, it made me want to laugh. As expected, fortune-telling wasn’t reliable.

Without hesitation, I stood up.

I’d already heard the reading, so there was nothing more to hear—but honestly, I’d lost all interest.

“Thank you for your time. Let’s go.”

At my words, Noxia, still seated, nodded and rose.

Just as we were about to leave the tent, the fortune teller added something as if she hadn’t finished speaking.

“Your choices… they won’t affect only your own fate. Please, be careful in all things…”

I glanced back at her, then resumed walking.

My life was on the line—of course I’d be careful. But the idea that my choices affected more than just my own fate nagged at me.

Even if I asked her what she meant, I wouldn’t get a satisfying answer.

I had no intention of being swayed by the words of a stranger who knew nothing.

The fortune teller seemed to say something to Ascan as he tried to leave with me—that was another reason I walked out first, paying it no mind.

As Ascan followed Tanashia to leave—

The fortune teller urgently grabbed the robe Ascan was wearing.

“If you go like this… you will die.”

At those words, Ascan glanced back at her. Unlike her vague remarks to Tanashia and Noxia, this sounded like a firm conviction.

But Ascan offered no reply.

Death had always been close to him since birth. Even if he feared it now, nothing would change.

As Ascan moved to leave the tent, the fortune teller hurriedly added:

“Do not stay where you wish to stay. You may lose your life.”

At that, Ascan’s steps halted momentarily.

There was only one place he wished to remain.

Right beside Tanashia.

Ascan turned once more to face the fortune teller, his expression blank.

“I’ll decline your advice. There are things worth risking my life for.”

Even if that place meant death—he had no intention of stopping.

Clack, clack. Having spoken his piece, Ascan walked toward the direction where Tanashia had disappeared.

The fortune teller, her eyes pure white without dark pupils, gazed at the spot where Tanashia, Ascan, and Noxia had vanished, murmuring regretfully:

“To defy fate… is to invite misfortune.”