Volume 3 Chapter 2 – "You Prepared Quite Thoroughly"

“Divine Appraisal?!” Noticing the gleam in Yimi’s eyes, after a moment’s hesitation, Dylin realized that the skill she used was exactly Divine Appraisal, the very technique he knew best.

Could she have used it to uncover his identity??

But how was that possible? He carried detection protection; during the Crown Tournament, any Divine Child who tried to scan him got hit with a flashbang.

For Yimi's Divine Appraisal to work on him, there was only one explanation: her level was astonishingly high—on par with or even surpassing his own, boosted by the Golden Butterfly hairpin.

The same applied to Illusion—a resonance of willpower. A strong enough spirit could impose on a weaker mind, twisting thoughts. This was central to the Divine Child’s Wugu route, using mental strength to assault an enemy’s psyche, causing daze, fainting, even mental shock.

One’s “mental resistance” was a hidden stat—unless special, most untrained spirits were similar. Among classes, Divine Children had the strongest mental fortitude, followed by mages—who channeled magic through their will, training it.

Dylin was stunned—how could such a young girl with just Divine Appraisal have unraveled all his secrets? Terrifying.

“You wear a mask everywhere, even a real mask now, so afraid others will see your true face?” Yimi mocked in a cold voice that didn’t match her childlike appearance. “Or are you so ugly you can’t bear being seen?”

“I don’t understand — what does that have to do with you?” Dylin frowned. “We have no grievances, no recent conflicts. Why are you trying to kill me?”

“No grievances? No conflicts?” Yimi mocked. “Patricide — is that no grievance?”

“Enough. You have amnesia. You wouldn’t remember — you even forgot you are the sinner of the Gold Elves.”

“What sinner? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So typical: ‘A gentleman’s misdeeds haunt for a thousand years.’ You vermin are still alive today—Mother Goddess has poor judgment.”

“Go spout nonsense to a wall, psycho. I don’t entertain the mentally ill.” Dylin drew the purple-eyed Flintlock from the wall.

Fighting on campus was forbidden—but this was attempted murder. If he hadn’t woken up, the knife at his throat would have succeeded.

Gold Elves.

Looking at her golden hair, Dylin recalled his earlier suspicions. A faint glow in his eyes—he activated Divine Appraisal.

Under its light, her true identity was revealed—those weren’t human ears at all, but pointed elf ears.

“You are…?” Dylin’s pupils contracted. “You’re a Gold Elf?!”

She was the second Gold Elf he’d ever seen—after Bilodis—who came to him unbidden, attempted a night raid, and nearly killed him.

Yimi said nothing. Her emerald eyes gleamed with brilliance. When he locked gazes, he felt a mental chain wrap around him: Wugu – Spiritual Chain.

Dylin was momentarily stunned.

Seizing the moment, Yimi rolled to his feet, grabbed the dagger, and stabbed toward his vulnerable spot.

Plotting revenge, she’d done her research. She knew tonight the mansion would be empty—everyone but Dylin, lulled by the academy’s safe reputation. His guard was down, riding high on past victories with no rivals—perfect conditions for her strike.

“Hah!” Her mental chain was strong, but physically she was weak—not fast enough. Dylin broke free and blocked the blade with his gun, but still suffered a shallow slash on his shoulder.

Her ability was hard to fight.

Their weapons clashed. Dylin’s human strength lagged, failing to overpower her. He looked into her eyes—swirling with hypnotic colors, trying to pull at his consciousness. Learned from last time, he looked away.

But his head felt pierced by invisible needles: Wugu – Mental Impact.

Pain flooded his senses. He staggered to the floor, knocking over the nightstand.

Yimi seized the moment, pressed on his waist, and raised the dagger to his forehead.

Earlier, she’d hesitated when she could’ve landed a killing blow—giving him that split second to push her away.

But she wasn’t letting go now.

Her legs pinned him down as she drove the blade home—until a clink! The blade was blocked. Golden butterfly feathers drifted—as Dylin’s form blurred, clearly the work of the hairpin.

In a flash, the dark-haired youth became a graceful, golden-haired Elf Princess.

“Such disobedient behavior.” A gentle voice whispered in Yimi’s ear. Her wrist was seized; the dagger dropped.

The voice belonged to Teresa, tranquil as an emerald pool. Yimi recognized it—danger crept into her heart.

She tried again to break Teresa with her gaze—but Teresa merely smiled, closing her eyes, letting Yimi pile on.

Different—worlds apart from the pressure Dylin gave.

Yimi struggled to decide.

But she had prepared more than that tonight.

She crushed an alchemy tablet hidden in her mouth and spat it at Teresa’s face. Stinging—Teresa stiffened.

A strange, liquefying toxin leaked, filling the room.

“How… cute.” Teresa wiped the mess. A smile that chilled. She hated dirty smells—this was intolerable. Spat upon by a brat like this…

Anger glinted in Teresa’s eyes.

The room thickened with smoke; visibility fell.

“A bad kid deserves punishment.” Teresa deliberately walked toward the door. She paused by the bed, grabbing something and pulling it out.

“Oh dear, a giant mouse’s in the room!”

She yanked the “golden-hair soft creature” from beneath the bed by its ankle like a kitten—Yimi’s horrified eyes.

“That surprise you? Gold Elves use intuition first, eyes second. You hide your eyes, so you think I can’t guess where you’re hiding?” Teresa teased.

“You… fat cow!” Yimi spat, glaring at Teresa’s chest.

Again, a stabbing pain at Teresa’s thigh. Blood,

She dropped to one knee as warmth dripped to the floor. She could bleed like anyone else—no invincibility. The taste of blood returned…

Yimi stood above Teresa, knife shaking, tears in her own eyes.

“She must reflect on her actions in her final moment,” she said softly.

“Yimi,” Teresa said with a quiet smile. “You still had a chance.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Your spirit was stronger than mine. When I sensed you approaching, you used your mind to blur me—or so you intended.”

“But you made noise. Now I know where you are.”

Yimi looked down—the floor’s vines had ensnared her “plant” foot: Divine Authority – Verdant Fragrance.

Why now?!

“Admit it—I was cautious for a reason,” Teresa said, still kneeling. “This is my room; if I tear it down I lose.”

She stepped closer, and a golden rose sprouted from Yimi’s neck, living off her energy.

Yimi panicked, uncertain but deeply afraid.

Yimi attempted another mental strike before Teresa could open her eyes, winding up the power behind her gaze.

Instead, a white vial flew, shattering in her vision and blinding her—another flash bomb from Teresa.

“Looks like I’ve got more alchemy tricks than you, kiddo,” Teresa said with a cold grin.

Yimi, blinded, staggered—unable to maintain her spell, her body fell under Teresa’s, held by a drawn bow.

“General Yimi,” Teresa quipped, pinning her down with a bow.

Yimi spat a purple cloud—but Teresa remained unscathed; her bow showed slight corrosion.

“One poison trick isn’t enough,” Teresa noted. “And targeting me tonight? You prepared quite thoroughly, Yimi.”

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