It was night, north of Herrom, the Imperial Capital.
The mana rail train had just emerged from a rattling, dark gray stone tunnel. After winding through the mountain range, it entered a boundless, symmetrical expanse of serene ancient woods.
Silhouetted peaks were dotted with occasional flickers of light, while beyond the fortress city-state, the Herrom National Forest Park and its lakes seemed to deepen amidst the roar of the rushing train.
In the distance, the silhouette of Herrom grew increasingly distinct. The lights of the city-state flared to life one after another, embellishing the skyline as if answering the scattered starlight against the pitch-black backdrop of the night.
Inside the carriage, the clock had just ticked past seven. Pale yellow lights played across the solid wood paneling. Passengers either sat quietly or chatted, a mingling of bustle and tranquility. Conductors bustled up and down the aisles, methodically attending to various passenger requests, resuming their rounds with practiced, professional smiles after every service.
Hyperion sat by the window. Her reflection showed her gazing quietly outside, a red hair accessory adorning the black tresses she wore, her long hair draped over one shoulder.
Opposite her, Mixiula had already changed into the uniform of the Protos Royal Magic Academy, the tips of her ears bearing subtle, nearly imperceptible traits of the demon race.
Between them, the rustling of Mixiula turning pages occasionally sounded. With their destination, Herrom, fast approaching, both had kept to their own quietude.
Outside, the scenery flashed past, and from time to time the lights of Herrom came into clearer view.
The crisp snap of a closing book broke the silence. Mixiula slipped the volume into her handbag. Although she had not finished reading *Romance of the Holy War*, which she had borrowed from her sister, she decided not to indulge herself any further and wait until they returned to school.
"Don't worry, Sister. Herrom isn't that perilous," Mixiula said consolingly, noticing the faint worry in Hyperion's expression. "The Resurrection Church can't possibly be as rampant here as the Extinction Branch is up north. At the very least, we won't run into anyone from the church inside the academy."
She figured her sister was likely still unsettled by what had happened earlier in Box Mountain Province.
Most of the time, Hyperion maintained a calm and composed facade. Only when alone with Mixiula would she let her guard down slightly, allowing her true feelings to show.
"Mixiula... I understand. Thank you."
Snapping out of her daze at Mixiula's words, Hyperion turned to look at her and gave her thanks.
Though they had experienced a brief scare at the checkpoint in Box Mountain Province, the remainder of their journey over the past day and a half—traversing the empire's north down into the central region—had been unexpectedly peaceful.
Resting in this comfortable space, surrounded by someone close, it was indeed easy for her to naturally unclamp her nerves.
Yet Mixiula had no idea of the mission she shouldered, nor of the hellish task that awaited her once she reached Herrom.
Whenever Hyperion thought about how she would have to infiltrate that isolated prison in an unfamiliar city, plunging into the pitch-black depths capable of sealing away Tier 8 great demons, fear would still creep into her heart.
Yet there was no one she could confide in. She could only bury this clandestine assignment deep inside.
"So? Did you like the book?"
Noticing Mixiula getting ready for the train's arrival, Hyperion smiled and shifted the subject.
The book Mixiula had just put away was something the Ice Snow Witch had lent Hyperion to pass the time during the journey, and Hyperion had later lent it to Mixiula.
It had originally been a book that circulated from the Protos Empire, so it wouldn't arouse suspicion within the empire's borders. Most importantly, the Ice Snow Witch had sealed the [Poet of Great Love] into a bookmark that could be hidden inside the book to pass security inspections.
"It's pretty interesting. Right now I don't care about anything else—I just want to see the losing heroine have a hysterical breakdown."
Mixiula crossed her arms and delivered her critique with complete gravity.
Even though it was a novel set against the historical backdrop of the Holy War era with entirely fictional events and characters, it featured three distinctive heroines: one who looked the most like the proper main heroine and actually was one; one who looked the most like a main heroine, but was a losing heroine; and one who looked the most like a losing heroine and was undeniably a loser.
"Are you talking about that girl who is either eating or holding food every time she appears?"
Hyperion asked, puzzled. The book had only been published early this year by the Protos Royal Magic Academy Press, and only the first volume was out, so it was still too early to tell who would win in the end.
"That's the one," Mixiula nodded.
"I thought she was quite cute."
Hyperion felt that if she were a boy, she would definitely like that heroine the most.
"I think the younger heroine is the cutest," Mixiula told Hyperion with an earnest, romantic girlish passion. "If life is a journey, she experiences despair and loneliness, yet manages to dispel those feelings. She's graceful, keeps her promises, and possesses a beauty meant to be cherished in the palm of one's hand."
Once they began chatting about the book, the brief wait seemed to speed up, and before they knew it, the minute hand on the clock had ticked ahead twice.
With a slight shudder, the train began to decelerate. The stars and lights outside the window slowed their rushing blur, and the quiet dark of the night gave way to the approaching illumination of the Herrom station platform.
The low rumble between wheels and rails, which had droned on through the night, gradually softened, announcing the journey's end.
Both Mixiula and Hyperion looked up from the world of books, letting their conversation trail off as they gazed out through the carriage window at the world beyond.
On the platform drawing near, the hurried commuters came into focus, and outside their compartment, the rustling footsteps and murmurs of moving passengers rose and fell.
"Sister, let's head to the commercial district to pick up a few things first before going back to the academy," Mixiula said, looking out the window and then turning to Hyperion. She always felt that her sister hadn't been able to fully relax ever since leaving home. "If we don't take advantage of the weekend to go into town, once Monday arrives, we won't be able to leave campus for days."
If she had her way, Mixiula clearly wouldn't want to spend another minute inside the Protos Royal Magic Academy.
As for the luggage they had checked earlier at the station, the Protos Royal Academy offered a transfer service that would deliver it straight to their residence.
As aristocratic students, Count Milford had arranged their stay in a detached manor in the residential quarter on the academy's north side.
After disembarking, they would have virtually no baggage to carry. Heading south from the station, they could reach the Protos Royal Magic Academy in just over ten minutes. Heading north, on the other hand, led into a bustling commercial district in the southern part of Herrom, which not only boasted many of the city-state's famous shops, but also plenty of lively excitement to see.
Chapter 369