Iris slowly bowed, surprise flashing in her eyes. When she rose, only calmness remained on her face. Her eyes moved between the chatting, dancing, drinking guests, yet she couldn’t find Jania’s familiar silhouette. Her friend had slipped into an invisible crack, never to appear again.

In front of Zantio, Iris couldn’t distract herself. She revealed an appropriate gleam in her eyes, a sign of admiration and anticipation real and unreal.

“The honour is mine, Sir Zantio,” Iris said. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“There is not much to be said about this retired old man. I’ve already passed my prime, and I can’t keep up with my reputation anymore.”

“My condolence for the misfortune, Sir Zantio. If not, you would’ve already reached the Grandmaster Tier.”

“It’s all in the past.” Zantio shook his head. “There are no ifs in this world. I must live with the consequence of my choices.”

Iris fell silent. Her soft, indistinct breathings rang, filling the atmosphere with cooling serenity. As she collected her thoughts, her heart raced. It was clear Jania gifted her this opportunity, an opportunity to establish a connection with a consultant of the Phenomenal Committee.

Though retired, Zantio was still an influential Mage. Few high nobilities could demand his presence.

“Pardon my impolite question, but the timing of your arrival had me curious.” Iris shifted her gaze around her, but, as she expected, Jania was no longer within the banquet. Even her supernatural senses failed to locate her enigmatic friend. “Am I correct to presume your acquaintance with Jania?”

Zantio raised his eyebrows. His posture stiffened before he forcefully relaxed. His changes did not go undetected, but Iris remarked nothing, focusing on the question at hand, hoping to glean a hint of Jania’s mysterious background.

“Indeed, I’ve known . . . Lady Jania for a long time, but I—please forgive my rudeness—have never heard of you until she mentioned your name.”

“I am merely a wandering scholar, someone who has the fortune to explore ruins of value, some of which may have attracted her attention.” Iris lowered her head and looked at her palms. A phantom warmth, of when Jania grasped her hands and comforted her, coursed inside her. “She helped me in my moment of weakness. However, our time spent together is short, and this is the second time I’ve met her.”

Zantio stroked his chin, frowning. He did not reveal his emotions easily, but now, the perplexity in his eyes was blinding.

“You must be an experienced wanderer,” he said, smiling. “Lady Jania did not make friends easily, and she rarely helps strangers. To my knowledge, you’re an outlier, a case study.”

“Life is unexpected. No one can predict with absolution where their destiny will lead them. Only by looking back will they see their long, intertwining journey.” Iris walked to the side, where a waiter holding a tray of champagne stood, and took a glass. “Even I do not know I would reach for this glass of champagne before I decided on it.”

After her speech, her need for luxury made itself known. She twirled her glass, letting the apple fragrance perfume her nose, and drank casually the sweet, burning flavour. It seared her throat, but she savoured it. The simmering heat tickled her chest.

“I can understand why you’ve won her grace.” Zantio nodded, though he rejected the champagne the waiter offered. “Your speech demonstrated to me your quality.”

“You flatter me, Sir Zantio. I can only spin a little tale and speak a few lines, not something to be proud of. Compared to your accomplishment, I’m still far off.”

“I’m getting old, while you’re still young, at your prime, your brightest moment.” Zantio reached inside his suit and took out a small journal, in which he wrote a few sentences.

Iris did not mean to peek, but her eyes naturally wandered to the content and, to her amazement, found a few quotes from her published paper, titled Of the Mundane Ancient. It detailed a fragmented exploration of a nameless ruin, in which she discovered parts of the heritage of a forgotten civilisation.

Of course, most of her knowledge came from the books she memorised in the Puppeteer Legacy Ground, but she had concealed the illusions under layers of truth, turning her fiction into reality, her knowledge into experience.

“I’ve recently dappled in the ancient history part of the academic. As Fate wills, I came across your paper, which is of engaging quality.” Zantio nodded. “Your literary skill is above mine. It was as if your paper were a fable, filled with strange, inexplicable moments. Still, the Phenomenal Committee has verified its legitimacy; even then, our record of the period is of less clarity than your finding.”

“It is my honour to shape a small corner of the puzzle.” Iris slightly raised her head, her voice sparkling. Though she had not intended to go overboard with her knowledge and attracted great attention, she could not help but feel her ego flourishing. “Wait, Sir Zantio. Did you say the Phenomenal Committee had seen my paper?”

“There are not many papers in the domain of prehistoric aeons. Because of the obscurity of the records, sometimes these papers climbed to the desk of the Phenomenal Committee.” Zantio laughed. “Nevertheless, I cannot tell you the result, for I regrettably am not a part of the panel.”

Iris blinked as realisation drowned her. That smile of Ludmint’s, that knowing, deceptive smirk, which caused Iris to frown then but thought no further, was now apparent in its reason. She knew this, and thus encouraged Iris to use the topic as her first work.

What did I tell you, Ludmint? I told you not to make me too famous, but now my first ever paper is in the hand of the committee. This progression is too terrific!

If this keeps up, will I have to introduce myself to the royalty?

“It isn’t something worth celebration; my luck merely granted me an opportunity, and my recklessness compelled me to press forward.” Iris heaved a sigh. “Such a dangerous act is unbefitting of an academic scholar. I still shuddered at my impulsive behaviour. Much to learn, much to amend.”

“Impulse is not all bad. Like inspiration, one does not need it, but it can be a source of something beautiful.” Zantio handed Iris his little notebook. “You can take it as a friendly suggestion, a gift from an editor of the Prime Archive.”

Though Iris didn’t want to shine brightly on the stage, she didn’t want to waste this opportunity either. Her impulse coerced held her arms and drew them to the notebook. Hesitation, doubt, and excitement mixed inside her eyes.

She was a genius, a marvel. With her ability, she could elevate herself to the top of the academic field, and with her futuristic perspective, her papers contained no lack of visionary paths. However, was it what she wanted? Was it acceptable for her to be so presumptuous?

Ludmint, I despise you and your manipulative way. I’m never letting you get away with it.

Beaming, Iris grasped the notebook. The stress on her shoulders vanished, replaced by the expectation of the future. It would be a waste of her talent if she dared not aim for the top.

She had failed in her past life, but she would not fail the second time.

“Then, I shan’t stand ceremony.” Iris placed the notebook inside her long sleeve. It vanished into her clothes, revealing no trace of its location. “My greed is flaring up. Please allow me to be imprudent. Is there any advice for me?”

Zantio stroked his beard. “I don’t have the needed expertise to guide you, but I do know a few things from my colleagues. It was nearing the Moon Falling Tide, and there will be a few new underwater ruins emerging from the depth of the ocean.”

“Moon Falling Tide? Is it perhaps the Moonlight Sea?”

“The Moonlight Sea of Yilon Archipelago. To you historians and adventurers, that place is the treasure trove of lost history, of endless, olden wealth.”

“I yearn to visit it someday, but I have just settled in Donhalgen.” Iris shook her head. An image of herself, a noble lady of high bearing, wearing tattered clothes and an eyepatch, commanding a group of wild, luscious ladies, filled her mind, but she shook it off right after its formation. “When I feel my preparation is enough, I will set foot there.”

“You have the ambition but also patience.”

“If not for this meagre self-control of mine, I wouldn’t be here right now,” Iris smirked. “I must thank my friends for shaping me like this, though it felt painful in the past.”

“Such friends will share with you joy and sorrow. When you gain membership to the Prime Archive, we, too, will be akin to a friend.”

Iris lifted her dress and curtseyed. “You will remain my senior, Sir Zantio. How can an amateur like me be in the same class as you? However, I’ll be catching up fast if you don’t prepare yourself.”

“Good. Good. I’ll be waiting.” Zantio eyed his pocket watch and sighed. “Our conversation is too engaging that I’d forgotten the time.”

“Your advice has benefitted me much,” Iris said. “Please, catch up with your schedule. I’ve already spent too much time with you. It’ll be impolite if I dare covet more. After all, you, Sir Zantio, are the honoured guest.”

“Thank you for understanding. Let’s hope our next meeting is soon.”

After Zantio bid farewell, Iris, who, because of her lengthy conversation with Zantio, became a rising star.

Some scholars, new and experienced, approached her. They introduced themselves and discussed ideas for their research and experiments. She carefully answered their questions; her humble, friendly manner won the hearts of many and even gained their affection.

Even though she dressed mildly, with her despondent emotions plaguing her aura, her mystical charm captivated all. Though unintentional, her style carried a hint of temptation to both men and women.

At heart, she was still a Monster Girl.

Until the end of the banquet, she gained a few friends, with whom she exchanged her address, hoping to become their pen pals. It was the first step toward establishing her network in Donhalgen, a connection outside of The Court.

Once Zantio came up on the stage and gave his final speech, the banquet concluded. The soft music gradually faded, and the scholars slowly dispersed, returning to their residents, institutions, or academies. Everyone left satisfied, especially Iris, who fiddled with the notebook in her hand, thinking about her future.

Her despondence had already scattered. She wore a hopeful smile, filled with confidence, and elation.

“Ludmint, did you also think about this?” she murmured. “Our personalities do complement each other . . . shrewd, adorable, and risqué. No matter. I’ll rise to your level, and when that happens, I’ll repay everything you’ve ever done to me. With interests.”

You better be ready.