"Oh my." A soft, crisp voice echoed.
My head tingled as the mana around still warned about the danger.
My hand trembled uncontrollably from the shock of deflecting the branch.
It felt numb, as though it wasn't even mine anymore.
I ignored the sensation, my gaze drawn instead to the girl walking toward us.
She moved with a grace that seed almost unnatural.
She wore the white-golden academic uniform, with her long, elongated ears peeking through her vibrant red hair tied in a low ponytail.
She stood tall—almost my height—with her hands clasped neatly behind her. Golden eyes adorned with spirals stared into .
I frowned slightly, looking at the grueso scar that marred her otherwise flawless face.
In her presence, the elves around us bowed their heads.
So did so out of respect, others out of pure fear.
Nyria Leena Gerald.
The [Villainess] of the second ga.
And…
…Ragnar's daughter.
Wilhlem stepped forward, shielding as I turned my attention to Elijah, who was still trembling on the ground.
Looking at her stirred sothing in —a burning rage, perhaps—because of her faint resemblance to Ragnar.
"What's the aning of this, Nyria?" Wilhlem asked, his voice chilling the place.
I looked back at Nyria, who stopped, tilting her head slightly as her lips curled into a polite smile.
"What do you an, Uncle?" she asked sweetly, stepping closer with grace.
Behind her, a group of students followed silently, each of them tall, elegant, and unmistakably elven.
I squatted beside Elijah, who trembled slightly with his head lowered.
"You alright?" I asked softly, patting his back in reassurance.
He hesitated, nodding weakly, but said nothing.
Heather, Avril, and Amaury rushed over to help him.
I slowly moved to the side as they reached close, keeping my distance from Avril.
"I am not your uncle," Wilhlem growled, making turn to look at him.
"Of course you are," Nyria replied, her smile unchanging. "Grandfather used to make call you that, rember?"
Wilhlem's expression darkened at the ntion of the forr head of the Gerald Highbloods.
I knew that if we weren't surrounded by students, he would have snapped right then and there.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Wilhelm commanded, "This isn't the place for you to be. Leave."
Nyria ignored him as she tilted her body to look toward Elijah.
Elijah lowered his body, unable to look at her.
"Is this really the successor you've chosen?" she asked, her tone deceptively gentle. "That weak boy who can't even lift his head in my presence?"
"That's none of your business," Wilhelm snarled, glaring at her.
Nyria's smile remained, but her golden eyes turned cold.
"Why make things harder for yourself, Uncle? Just pass down my grandfather's art to ."
"Never." Wilhlem's voice remained firm. "Master entrusted the it to . You have no right to forcefully take it back."
"Exactly, Uncle," Nyria replied, nodding her head. "If force were an option, I'd already have mastered it by now."
"You are gravely mistaken if you think—"
"How is your daughter now?" Nyria cut into his words with a smile. "Is she still alive?"
"...."
And for once, I saw Wilhlem's calm face morph into that of anger.
"I will ask once. Leave." He snarled, glaring at her.
Nyria smiled softly before her gaze landed on .
Turning toward , she slowly walked, her smile still the sa.
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