The echo of steel against steel still rang in Celeste’s ears as she stepped back into the manor. Her limbs carried the deep fatigue of weeks of relentless training, but her posture remained upright, deliberate, controlled. She had earned this exhaustion. Every muscle ache, every bruise, every lightning burn.

  She passed the guards in the entry hall with a faint nod and climbed the steps in silence. The weight of her sword felt different now; not heavier, but more familiar, like a part of her.

  At the top of the stairs, she found one of the maids waiting with a bow.

  "Lady Celeste, would you like your evening meal prepared?"

  "Not yet," she said softly, her voice distant. "Please draw my bath. And make it hot."

  "Of course."

  The warm scent of lavender and steam greeted her as she stepped into the private bath chamber. The maids had done their work quickly and with care. Candles flickered around the room, casting soft light across the polished stone. Steam curled along the surface of the water, beckoning her.

  She let her robe slip off her shoulders, revealing bruises and faint scorch marks still lingering across her skin. The training had been punishing, but she had endured. More than that, she had thrived.

  She stepped into the water slowly, savoring the heat. Muscles unclenched. Tension eased. Her body sank into the warmth until only her shoulders and head remained above the surface.

  For the first time in months, she let herself relax.

  Her thoughts drifted to the past weeks. Sword strikes paired with lightning bursts, the feel of mana pulsing through her limbs, the subtle shifts in terrain beneath her feet. She had grown stronger.

  But how much stronger?

  She had not looked at her status window since the beginning of her training. Father’s words had echoed in her mind: “Don’t rely on numbers. Let your body tell you the truth.”

  But now?

  Now, she had earned the right to look.

  She closed her eyes and focused.

  Status.

  Status Window

  Name: Celeste Silver

  Class: Mage

  Title: —

  Level: 1

  HP: ∞/∞

  MP: 220/220

  Stats:

  CON: ∞

  STR: 15

  DEX: 16

  INT: 18

  WIS: 18

  LCK: 9

  Available Stat Points: 0

  Active Skills:

  Chain Lightning

  Lightning Cloak

  Heal

  Counter

  Sword Draw

  Passive Skills:

  Martial Master

  Strategist

  Lightning Aura

  Focus

  Immortality [Hidden]

  Celeste stared.

  Three months of training. Day and night, blood and sweat; it had reshaped her.

  She hadn’t gained a single level.

  But that didn’t matter.

  Her stats had increased naturally, without spending a single point. Through repetition. Through exhaustion. Through sheer will. Her strength had climbed by five, her dexterity by six. Her intelligence and wisdom had surged by eight each. Even her luck had nudged higher by one.

  She had earned every single increase, not from convenience, but through suffering, growth, and perseverance.

  And the infinity symbol beside her HP and Constitution made her lips twitch.

  A quiet chuckle escaped her.

  She rested her head against the stone rim of the bath, the heat curling around her like a second cloak.

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  “More than ready,” she whispered.

  The candlelight flickered in agreement.

  She lingered there in silence, the hum of mana almost inaudible beneath the surface of the water. Her fingers traced lazy ripples as her thoughts wandered toward the academy, toward the unknown faces she would soon meet, and the trials she would face.

  Would they see her as just another noble’s daughter?

  Would they notice the strength hiding beneath her calm gaze? The weight of discipline etched into her very stance?

  She doubted it.

  And that was fine.

  Let them underestimate her. Let them talk. Let them wonder…

  A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts.

  "Lady Celeste," a maid's voice called gently from behind the door. "Dinner will be served soon."

  “I’ll be down shortly,” she replied.

  She submerged once more, fully, letting the water envelop her before emerging again, water streaming from her midnight-black hair.

  By the time she stepped out, her golden eyes burned with quiet purpose.

  She dried and dressed quickly, choosing a deep blue tunic and a silver-threaded sash. Her steps carried a calm urgency as she made her way to the dining hall, the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread growing stronger with each step. The evening light filtered in through the stained-glass windows, casting warm hues across the polished floor.

  Her family was already gathered. Father, at the head of the long table, Mother to his right, with Luke and Onyx across from each other mid-table. A space had been left for her.

  “Welcome back, sister,” Onyx said cheerfully, scooting over to make room. “You missed the stew last night. It was amazing.”

  Celeste took her seat with a nod, her gaze briefly meeting Luke’s. He gave her a quiet nod of respect.

  Mother smiled softly. “Did the bath help?”

  “Yes,” Celeste replied, unfolding her napkin. “I needed it.”

  Father set his cup down. “You’ve completed your training. You’re stronger. Sharper. But strength is meaningless if not tempered with discipline.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  Luke leaned forward slightly. “Do you plan to apply to the Knight’s Crucible immediately?”

  Celeste didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want to earn my place through the entrance trials. Not favoritism.”

  Father grunted in approval. “Good. There are no shortcuts that last.”

  “You’ll do more than pass,” Onyx added with a grin. “You’ll dominate them. Just don’t show off too hard or they’ll all feel bad.”

  Mother chuckled gently, reaching to pour another cup of tea. “Let your actions speak for you. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone except yourself.”

  They continued eating, the table alive with quiet conversation. Onyx rambled about a swordsmanship lecture, while her mother and Luke discussed news from the capital. Celeste mostly listened, filing away every word, every detail about the state of the world she would soon be entering more fully.

  The meal was long and warm, filled with unspoken understanding. Every look her parents gave her now carried a weight of pride. Luke, ever the stoic, made subtle comments only a fellow warrior could appreciate. About her form, her balance, her mana restraint. Onyx asked when she’d spar with him again and pouted when she answered, “When you can land three strikes in a row.”

  When dinner ended, mother placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’ll begin preparations for your departure.”

  Celeste nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

  As the others filed out, father lingered behind. He walked to her side and looked down at her, arms crossed.

  “When you stand before the instructors at the Knight’s Crucible, don’t flinch. And don’t bend. Look them in the eye and let them see what you’ve become.”

  She met his gaze evenly. “I will, father.”

  He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Then go get some rest. The journey to greatness doesn’t pause for anyone.”

  And with that, he turned and left.

  Celeste remained a moment longer in the empty dining hall, her hands resting atop the table, her thoughts calm and centered.

  She looked down at her palm, a faint static buzz crackling across her fingertips.

  Tomorrow, the road would begin.

  And she would walk it without fear.

  —

  The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of her room, gilding the polished stone in gold. Celeste stirred slowly beneath her sheets, the faint ache in her limbs serving as a quiet reminder of all she had accomplished. There was no urgency in her movements. No rush. Just the quiet awareness of what the day signified.

  She sat up, brushed her hair back, and took a deep breath.

  A new chapter was beginning.

  Maids arrived shortly after with water for washing, fresh linens, and a selection of travel-ready attire. They offered gentle smiles and respectful bows. No longer just performing their duties, but acknowledging the young woman before them as someone becoming something more.

  Celeste dressed in silence, selecting a sleeveless black tunic reinforced with hidden thread work, fitted trousers, and boots made for travel. A new cloak, deep gray with her family’s insignia stitched at the hem, rested over her shoulders. She paused before the mirror and studied herself.

  No longer just the youngest Silver.

  But not yet who she would become.

  She made her way downstairs, where her father and mother were already speaking with one of the estate stewards. A covered carriage waited in the courtyard beyond, its crest polished, the wheels reinforced.

  Mother turned as Celeste approached and smiled. “You slept well, I hope?”

  Celeste nodded. “Well enough.”

  Father eyed her attire and gave a curt nod of approval. “You’ll be leaving in two days. Final provisions will be made tomorrow. Until then, we’ll focus on preparing your final records and travel documents.”

  “Is there anything you’d like us to include?” Mother asked.

  Celeste considered. “A personal training schedule. And a mana refinement log.”

  Father’s brow lifted faintly, then lowered in satisfaction. “Noted.”

  They walked toward the courtyard together. The air was cool, the breeze gentle, carrying the distant scent of wild pine.

  Luke and Onyx waited near the carriage. Onyx bounced on his heels. “So, are we really going to help you prep for the Crucible exams?”

  “If you can keep up,” Celeste said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  “Challenge accepted,” Onyx declared, drawing his practice blade.

  Luke chuckled softly. “We’ll train after lunch. Until then, go eat breakfast. You’ll need the energy.”

  Celeste glanced at her parents.

  They nodded.

  And with that, she turned toward the barracks to begin what would be her final days of home training before the academy.