Inside the lounge of Count Milford’s manor, flames danced vigorously in the fireplace, casting a faint reddish glow over the edges of the velvet sofas and chairs while bringing much-needed warmth to the high-ceilinged room. The crackling embers and burning logs lent a touch of dynamism to the quiet space.
With her hands resting on her knees, Hyperion looked lost in complex thought.
"May I ask why the Holy Son of Extinction urgently departed the Northwestern Province?"
Hyperion looked toward Count Milford and posed her question.
Even though she knew Count Milford's intelligence would not be mistaken, she still worried it might be a trap.
"It seems something went wrong in the north of the empire, and Bishop of Extinction Askesan reassigned him directly north."
Count Milford stroked his beard, equally puzzled. He found it truly bizarre—just how big of a mess had broken out in the north to make the Bishop of Extinction dispatch even the Holy Son of Extinction there?
It was almost as if someone were drawing all the enemy fire away for Hyperion.
Count Milford was certain that the Holy Son of Extinction had already taken the mana rail line to Box Mountain Province, the northern transportation hub, and had started heading north from there.
"If the Holy Son of Extinction can't wrap up his mission quickly, he might not be back within seven days. But even if he does return in the coming days, I will immediately map out a route to the Imperial Capital of Herrom that completely steers clear of him,"
Count Milford added.
He felt the burden carried by this young priestess was far too heavy. Since she had a chance to rest, he did not want her to bear any further worries.
"Phew."
Hearing this, Hyperion was completely relieved. Her taut nerves relaxed so much that she felt a bit lightheaded, as if floating on air.
"Praise the Goddess. May she continue to bless Lady Hyperion."
The three clergymen prayed devoutly. To them, this was clearly a miracle manifested by the Goddess.
As expected, someone favored as the Saintess's disciple and a kindred spirit to Mr. Lanqi Wilfort truly was a chosen daughter of destiny protected by the Goddess of Fate.
The next Saintess of the church was bound to be Miss Hyperion.
"Please don't... Such a stroke of dumb luck won't happen a second time. Herrom certainly won't welcome me with open arms or move mountains for me."
Hyperion shook her head repeatedly. Sometimes having too much good luck was actually terrifying.
A person only had so much luck in life; whoever burned through theirs first would be the first to go. Ever since meeting Lanqi, her luck had turned remarkably good, and now, after being briefly separated from him, her luck had grown outrageously good.
Lanqi sacrificed karma for good luck, so he had nothing to fear, but she was terrified.
As their conversation wound down,
Count Milford leaned on his cane and looked toward the lounge door.
"In any case, you've all had an exhausting journey. Get plenty of rest. Miss Hyperion, your room is on the second floor. I'll have a servant show you up shortly. Besides, Michaela heard you were arriving today and is probably already waiting near your room,"
Count Milford said to the clergymen of the Church of the Goddess of Fate.
When mentioning his daughter Michaela, he looked a bit helpless.
"It's quite all right. I am Michaela's cousin now, and once we reach the Imperial Capital of Herrom, I will look after her like a younger sister. Please rest assured, Count."
Hyperion stood up and bowed once more to Count Milford, their church's ally.
"Thank you, Miss Hyperion."
Count Milford nodded slightly, touched the bronze lamp to dispel the soundproofing magic, and led the group out of the lounge.
Opening the door, they saw a head maid in a dark blue uniform with sparkling silver-white buttons waiting at the far end of the corridor.
She bowed slightly to everyone. Noticing her, Count Milford turned back to Hyperion. "Perfect. The steward who looks after Michaela is right here. She will escort you to your room."
Hyperion nodded. After a few brief parting words with Count Milford and the three clergymen, she walked over.
The steward bowed slightly upon seeing Hyperion and said in a respectful tone, "Please follow me, Miss Milian."
...
In the corridor, sconces cast a soft yellow glow, lending the carved stone walls an even more ancient and historic feel. At regular intervals stood dark, carved wooden doors of distinct designs, with faint light occasionally seeping through the crevices beneath them.
The steward walked ahead at a steady, measured pace, allowing Hyperion to follow comfortably.
Ascending the stairs to the second floor, Hyperion spotted a figure standing in the distance at the far end of the wide hallway.
She had a slender figure and snow-white skin. Her long blonde hair was elegantly woven into a dignified updo adorned with two glittering hair ornaments, and her hands, clad in translucent white gloves, rested quietly in front of her.
As Hyperion drew closer, the girl turned her gaze toward her.
Meeting her gaze, Hyperion noticed the girl had bright eyes, though her pupils were somewhat vertical and the tips of her ears slightly longer than average.
Hyperion was intimately familiar with these traits.
The girl waiting for her had to be Count Milford's daughter, Michaela. She likely carried a trace of demon blood—perhaps an eighth or a sixteenth at most—far less pronounced than Hyperion's own demonic features in her undisguised half-demon form.
It was said that in the Protos Empire, people with a faint trace of demon heritage were not uncommon.
Demon blood did indeed tend to grant magical talent surpassing ordinary humans, but it could also incline one toward the extreme temperaments typical of the demon race.
In an environment like the Protos Empire, where demons were already viewed with hostility, growing up made it even easier for such people to become difficult to get along with.
The young girl waited quietly without saying a word as Hyperion approached.
"Miss Michaela, I'm Milian. I'll be staying here starting today,"
Hyperion introduced herself warmly.
Michaela looked Hyperion up and down.
"So you're my sister?"
Michaela seemed a bit disappointed and averted her somewhat aloof gaze.
"!"
Hyperion felt a jolt in her chest.
That familiar feeling reminded her of her hometown, Ikerite.
Ever since her father went missing, people who looked down on her yet never dared show it had ramped up their hostility without restraint, letting her experience firsthand the fickleness of human hearts.
After arriving on the Northern Continent, she had finally run into someone who wasn't friendly to her.
"Come with me."
Dropping those words with a cold face, Michaela turned and entered Hyperion's room on her own, seeming to have already let herself into the guest room where Hyperion was to stay.
"..."
Hyperion said nothing and braced herself to follow.
She had promised Count Milford she would take care of Michaela.
Even if Michaela was willful, she would accommodate her.
During her days in Ikerite, she had long grown used to putting up with such treatment.
Hyperion stepped through the open doorway. The interior was just as elegant and luxurious as the lounge, featuring a large bed in the center covered by a silk quilt embroidered with classical imperial motifs. Along one wall stood a spacious long desk integrated with cabinets, paired with a cushioned chair, upon which various everyday magic apparatuses rested.
Meanwhile, Michaela's voice rang out before Hyperion once more.
"You're clearly so pretty, so don't let anyone look down on our Milford family. A count's daughter ought to look the part,"
Michaela said, looking at Hyperion without a hint of a smile.
Behind Michaela, resting on a sofa, were several brand-new gift boxes from shops. They appeared to contain winter clothing and jewelry unique to the jewelers of the Milford Territory.
"Are these... for me?"
Not entirely sure, Hyperion parted her lips in surprise and pointed at the gifts.
"I didn't buy too much, for fear you wouldn't like them,"
seeing Hyperion's hesitation, Michaela nodded in confirmation.
"Thank you, Michaela..."
Hyperion's surprise was mingled with a touch of warmth.
She suddenly sensed the resemblance between Michaela and Count Milford.
"In our house, you must follow the rules. If you find an issue with a rule, you can bring it up and we will discuss it together in a family meeting,"
Michaela said, seeing that Hyperion seemed less tense.
"Alright."
Hyperion listened patiently as Michaela gave reasonable house rules while wearing the stern demeanor of someone lecturing a subordinate.
"We have dinner at six in the evening. Don't be late—otherwise Father, Mother, and I will wait for you to arrive before we start eating,"
Michaela continued laying out the house rules for Hyperion.
"...Understood."
Hyperion pondered this for a moment. So the consequence of being late was that the whole family would just sit waiting for her.
"Also, discrimination against anyone with demon heritage is strictly forbidden in our home, whether toward the servants or toward Mother and me."
Having said that, Michaela thought for a moment and nodded, signaling that there were essentially no other rules.
"Understood,"
Hyperion nodded.
She had no reason to discriminate against demons in the first place, and the Milford family rules were surprisingly few.
Right now, she was using the ancient Demon Realm technique [Polymorph: Human] she had obtained with Lanqi in the Purgatory Corridor Academy. Even the empire couldn't detect that she was a half-demon. In truth, within the Protos Empire, concealing one's race in this manner was a capital offense.
Hyperion could not confide in Michaela that she was actually a half-demon, and in Michaela's eyes, Hyperion was simply a pure human.
Seeing Hyperion answer so promptly, Michaela looked away once more.
"Good thing you're only staying in this house for a week,"
she muttered to herself, her brows knitting slightly.
"..."
The warmth that had just blossomed in Hyperion's heart chilled a notch.
Sure enough, an outsider suddenly dropping into Michaela's home was bound to be resented and pushed away.
However, Michaela glanced around Hyperion's room.
"This room is way too small. Honestly, what is Father thinking, putting you in a guest room... But we'll be leaving for Herrom in a week anyway, so please bear with it for now,"
Michaela grumbled under her breath, evidently dissatisfied with her father's arrangements.
"..."
Hyperion felt her eyes sting. Even back when she was a duke's daughter in Ikerite, she had never had an adoptive sister who treated her this well.
Yet here on the Northern Continent, having become a priestess stripped of noble status, she found herself constantly surrounded by warmth.
Michaela was a good girl; it was probably because her father had always been so stern and unsmiling that she had trouble expressing herself properly.
All in all, the Milfords were genuinely kind people.
"Don't embarrass me once we get to the Imperial Capital,"
Michaela said, looking at Hyperion's slightly delicate, vulnerable expression.
"Mm,"
Hyperion simply gave a soft response.
"We Milfords always pay people back when they try to pick a fight. If anyone dares bully you, call for me."
So by "don't embarrass me," she meant "if someone bullies you, hit back."
Hyperion was gradually getting the hang of deciphering Michaela.
Though Michaela was only Tier 2, she clearly possessed the confidence befitting a count's daughter at the Protos Academy.
This feeling of being looked after couldn't help but remind Hyperion of the days when she had just enrolled in Ikerite Academy.
Back then, everyone had been unfriendly to her, and there were even obnoxious people who went out of their way to cause trouble for her.
Yet back at Ikerite Academy, there had also been someone who watched her back all the time...
If he were at the Protos Royal Magic Academy, would it be the same?
"..."
Hyperion shook her head, snapping out of her daydream.
"Don't worry, Michaela. I'm actually very strong,"
Hyperion looked at Michaela and gave a confident grin.
After adventuring with Lanqi for a semester, receiving instruction from Tata, and undergoing more than a month of special training from the Ice Snow Witch, she was no longer the girl who had been pushed around when she first entered the academy.
"That's a relief, then. If you run into anyone begging for a beating, beat them up. It's not like our family can't afford the compensation. Don't worry about causing trouble for Father,"
Michaela nodded.
Though not good at expressing herself, she possessed a unique knack for emotional intuition. She could sense that this older sister of hers was remarkably pure-hearted and feared she would be taken advantage of in a place as materialistic, cold, and callous as Herrom.
Having run out of greeting pleasantries, silence settled between the two of them for a moment.
Michaela's face remained entirely expressionless, making it difficult for Hyperion to gauge her mood or what she was thinking.
"By the way, Michaela, have you ever heard of someone named Luoqi?"
Hyperion asked tentatively.
She had been worrying about this for a long time.
She had originally planned to ask Count Milford privately next time she saw him; she didn't want the Holy Trio to learn Lanqi's alias and whereabouts on the Northern Continent, as those three's condition absolutely could not be allowed to worsen further.
Asking Michaela now was ideal, since she had visited the Imperial Capital of Herrom many times and might know more about the south.
"Luoqi? Never heard of him. What is he to you? Does he have any identifying features? Do you need me to help find him?"
Michaela raised an eyebrow and asked.
Faced with Michaela's ice-cold expression paired with an overwhelmingly enthusiastic barrage of questions, Hyperion waved her hands and shook her head rapidly.
"He's a friend I've been separated from for a long time. I'll look for him after we get to the Imperial Capital."
Hearing Michaela's response put her mind completely at ease.
Hyperion couldn't help sighing in relief inwardly. It seemed Lanqi's fame hadn't spread all the way to the Northwestern Province, which was good.
While the news blackout in the north meant information lagged between the Northwestern Province and the Imperial Capital of Herrom, at the very least, Lanqi hadn't caused a massive stir in the Imperial Capital or the south as of over a month ago.
"Don't worry. I know people at the Herrom Broadcasting Corporation. Worst comes to worst, we can run a missing person notice. We'll definitely find him."
Though Michaela didn't know what kind of man her cousin was yearning for, as long as he was in the Protos Empire, there would surely be a way to track him down once they reached the Imperial Capital of Herrom.
"When the time comes, I'll see what kind of taste you have in men, Sister."
Judging by Hyperion's reaction, Michaela was convinced that this had to be the man her sister fancied.
Anyone who wanted to marry the eldest daughter of the Milford family had to be an accomplished man in the empire—ambitious, driven, and talented.
She would vet him thoroughly for her sister.
"Michaela, I think you might be misunderstanding something...?"
Hyperion found it difficult to read Michaela's subtle expressions.
Yet she couldn't very well sit down and tell Michaela the full tale of her and Lanqi on the Southern Continent.
Still, for some reason,
ever since arriving on the Northern Continent, the people and things she had encountered had all been filled with warmth, beauty, and touching moments.
Hyperion could only let go of her worries with a soft breath, turning her gaze toward the other side of the spacious room.
Outside, the gentle drizzle continued to patter, like the strumming strings of time. In this quiet, cozy room, she looked through the glass at the dappled lights shimmering through the courtyard's misty rain.
An ordinary view took on a whole new feeling.
Everything felt just right, heartening her from within.
Even if the Imperial Capital of Herrom ahead was fraught with the unknown and peril, Hyperion felt brimming with strength.
She looked forward to the moment when, after all of this was over,
she would meet him again.
Chapter 339