“Your crime is unforgivable. But leniency or severity lies in how you choose to confess. If you truly keep silent, you won’t be able to reduce the weight of your sin.”

“I’ve always respected honest people, but I despise cowards. A man only lives once — you should think about how you’ll be remembered in the eyes of later generations. Would you rather die worthless, or leave behind a shred of dignity?”

Isatia’s presence pressed down, regal and absolute — the pressure of the imperial bloodline. Among the princesses of the Tyrel Empire, she was ranked beyond all others, unquestionably first.

“I... I...” Wood stammered, tongue-tied, unable to form half a sentence. His face turned pale, his lips trembled, his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Standing nearby, Vinny narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“I—I have no one behind me. This was all my own doing, my personal choice, my own behavior,” Wood forced out.

In the end, it was as though he had finally steeled himself. Yet his words still faltered at the edges.

“So,” Isatia’s tone cut sharp as a blade, “you want me to believe you schemed all this alone? That you concocted a lie capable of overturning hundreds of families by yourself?”

Wood’s lips moved as though he wanted to explain, but when he looked into Isatia’s eyes, his soul collapsed.

“These—these were only my own thoughts. I had no accomplices. I admit my crime.”

“Why are you still protecting him?! Just let him die in the Maus Secret Realm, wouldn’t that solve everything?!” Wood [N O V E L I G H T] roared hysterically.

“Fine, fine. Yes, I brought evil men with me. But what about you? Who exactly did you bring along, Vinny?” Isatia’s tone sharpened. “If you really want to talk about dragging in outside forces, then what about those mercenaries bound to you? Do you even realize what you’ve done? Tch, in broad daylight, on the ancient road outside the capital, you flaunted them openly. How disgusting.”

As she spoke, Vinny pulled out Wood’s Command Token from his robes and tossed aside the counterfeit token he had exchanged it for.

“Here,” Vinny said coldly, “this is the genuine Command Token I recovered. The fake one in your possession was fabricated. Hold onto your lies if you want, but it won’t save you.”

With that, he shoved the real Command Token into Isatia’s hand. At the same moment, Isatia’s gaze locked on the token Vinny had seized, her sharp eyes taking in every engraved line and number.

“Mr. Wood,” Isatia’s voice was calm, cutting, “if you remain silent in the examination, who will save you?”

She still sat upon the long chair of judgment. “The Carillian Academy is not an impure place. It is not somewhere filth should linger. This is a place suited only for those who will truly ascend the path of becoming a man of virtue. I advise you to stay here for several days, reflect upon your sins, and think carefully until you understand all your mistakes.”

“?!” Wood’s eyes flew wide open.

He had never considered that if he failed, he would end up like this. No matter how carefully one calculated, people eventually misstepped. If he had succeeded, he would have been hailed as a hero, praised with songs. But exposed as he was now, under Vinny’s testimony, who would still dare stand beside him?

Heroes... those only existed for winners. Losers would always be branded villains. Did he expect the people behind him to rescue him now? How naïve.

The people who had driven him with their schemes — the shadowy hands behind him — would never allow themselves to be implicated by his downfall. Once he was locked away in prison, stripped of identity and future, they would abandon him without hesitation.

“You must be mistaken,” Isatia’s sharp, beautiful eyes pierced into his, her words like a blade cutting straight through his soul. “The eyes are the windows of the spirit. Your gaze betrays everything in your heart. Wood, no matter how hard you try, you cannot conceal what lies behind those eyes.”

Someone with such a guilty conscience, someone who carried the weight of unseen masters at his back, could not hide from her sight.

“Even if you claim this was your own doing,” Isatia’s voice rose, echoing through the hall, “your eyes say otherwise.”

Her words pinned him down like iron shackles.

Isatia rose to her feet, her presence towering, every line of her body radiating imperial authority. She raised her hand, her voice ringing out:

“Seize him! Bind him!”

The Princess of the Tyrel Empire — she knew far too well how subtle shifts of posture and movement could amplify the crushing psychological pressure she exerted upon others.

“But,” Isatia’s gaze was icy, “do you even understand your situation? The ones behind you may have given you orders, but there is absolutely no way they will step forward for you now. At most, they only had the ability to manipulate you into moving. Do you think you have value enough for them to risk exposure?”

She leaned forward, her words deliberate. “What you failed to realize is that some people treat pawns as disposable. They will let you believe you are important, but in truth, you are nothing but fuel to be spent.”

Growth... recognition of one’s own limits. The moment a man realized just how naïve, how arrogant, how laughably small he truly was.

“That is what you should have understood,” Isatia said coldly.

“In fact, do you really believe those old schemers would risk themselves for you? Would they?!” Isatia spread her arms wide, her meaning unmistakable. “Even the great princesses of Tyrel are seated here now. Who among them would dare protect you? Who would gamble their status for your sake?”

“I—I am not a Tyrel subject!” Wood shouted, his eyes wide, his voice trembling with something between defiance and collapse.

“Oh?” Isatia’s smile curved, sharp as a blade. “So you finally admit it? That you are an outsider?”

But when she asked, her words were not truly aimed at Wood — they were directed at the shadowy hand behind him.

“Captain, we’ve already checked the background information of every student here. His full name is Wood Silmers, second son of the Duke of Silmers from the Kingdom of Katera.”

“Duke? Second son?” Upon hearing this, Isatia let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Ah, a typical textbook answer from a spoiled noble family.”

Arrogance. Believing one’s background or family name could cover all sins. But the truth was clear: the title of “second son of a duke” meant nothing. Times had changed; such things carried no weight.

“Mr. Wood, do you know why this is so?” Isatia asked quietly.

Wood gritted his teeth and held his silence.

“Because people like you,” Isatia’s tone sharpened, “always believe a suit of white robes can hide the wolf beneath. That wealth and nobility can cover every crime. But you never stop to measure your own strength, your own worth, your own capacity for risk.”

She leaned forward, eyes glinting. “Think carefully. The one who placed that white robe on your shoulders, who whispered promises of safety to you — did he ever truly give you any protection beyond empty words and hollow assurances? Besides feeding you lies, what did he ever offer you?”

Wood’s eyes flickered, betraying the storm in his heart, though his lips still refused to move.

“Interesting. He didn’t even give you the slightest genuine protection, yet you still came running?” Isatia’s tone was ice-cold. “Only a fool would think like that. And in our age, fools are the first to be crushed.”

With a single glance, she could already read Wood’s thoughts. To the Princess of the Tyrel Empire, deciphering the minds of students like him was laughably easy.

“The more you struggle, the more danger you invite upon yourself. Small tricks will only worsen your plight. Perhaps if you had been dealt with in the Academy, you might have had a chance to escape. But now, if you are deported to your homeland, do you really think they will handle you more leniently than we would?”

Her gaze was sharp as a blade. “If, as you say, you were ordered to test us — then when Vinny reports this matter, and Mia Silmers learns of it, I suspect she will punish you far more harshly than I ever could.”

Isatia stood, her dark hair spilling like a waterfall, her beauty radiant yet merciless. She rose from her seat and turned slightly toward her aide.

“Draw up the report and hand it to me. Make sure all of this, including his forged token and the list of offenses, is submitted directly to the Academy’s Student Council. Once received, they will forward it to the higher authorities. Then we shall see whether your homeland still dares to protect you, or if they will abandon you to rot in a Carillian prison.”

“Yes, I understand, Captain,” her aide responded firmly.

One couldn’t help but marvel at Isatia’s efficiency. With just a few words, she had fully dismantled Wood’s defenses. His mind collapsed, and as if guided step by step, he ended up signing the confession and filling out the detailed report. By the time the paperwork was complete, he was already being led off to the Academy’s prison, awaiting trial under the Student Council’s judicial process. Everything was handled without error.

No wonder people said she could serve as Disciplinary Committee Captain after only a year at the Academy.

The abilities of these Tyrel princesses were each more formidable than the last. Watching Vinny cough dryly beside them only made the contrast sharper.

“Vinny, thank you for helping me today,” Isatia said earnestly.

Seeing Wood, who once strutted arrogantly, now dragged away soulless and hollow-eyed, Vinny could only sigh.

“Don’t mention it. Classmate Isatia, I need to return this Command Token to you,” Vinny said, holding it out.

Isatia took the token from his hand and nodded. “From here on, the matter will be handled by the Student Council. Whoever dares try to rescue him, we will find out soon enough. As for us, let’s get some rest. After tonight, we’ll need our full strength.”

“Tomorrow, we march into the Spiritual Enlightenment Ceremony.”

“Oh? Really?” Vinny, hearing this, felt there was some hidden meaning in those words, and couldn’t help showing a surprised look at Isatia.

“Classmate Isatia, could it be... your number is also fifteen?”

“Tomorrow, please take care of me, Classmate Vinny.” As she spoke, Isatia raised her hand and lightly pointed between her eyebrows with her finger. On her forehead, the numbers written were the exact same as his—fifteen.

“??” Vinny froze for a moment, before finally realizing what she meant.

“Classmate Isatia, your group is also Fifteen??” Vinny glanced at his own Command Token in his hand. The number written there was the same as Isatia’s. Apart from that number, the Command Token in her hand was completely identical to his in every way—no difference in color, no difference in details.

“Yes.” Isatia nodded, a faint smile curling at her lips.

Vinny suddenly understood. This was Marx’s secret investigation method—assigning them to the same group.

Only, Vinny was curious as to why Marx seemed to have such urgency. It was as if he wanted them to confirm something in the trial grounds tomorrow.

“Don’t let today’s events affect your performance tomorrow,” Isatia added.

“Alright, I understand.” Vinny laughed lightly, “Don’t joke around. If I had to say what my greatest strength is, it’s my ability to endure pressure. No matter what situation it is, as long as it’s not in the Kingdom of Carmela, there’s no pressure I can’t withstand.”

Isatia seemed to have other things to do. Vinny took the chance to hand her a vial, speaking casually, “Then, Isatia, the medicine you bought from me before—are you still using it?”

“Mhm, they work very well.” Isatia nodded.

“That’s good. Then, Classmate Isatia, you should also rest early today.”

Vinny turned around and left.

After this brief interlude, Vinny thought again about what it meant that Udes, someone so completely unlike himself, ended up being grouped with him.

In this grand stage of the Carmela Kingdom, the number of noble heirs was beyond counting. But being a noble heir was nothing special—what truly mattered was one’s clan, one’s bloodline, and in some higher-ranked noble families, bloodline quality was the only measure of value.

Yet Udes was different. He was clearly a Carmelan, but judging from his—

...was also very likely a Carmelan.

Vinny could only say that those who bore grudges against him were many, but there were very few who would go so far as to strike from the shadows. Even fewer would choose such a cowardly means.

If he really wanted to track it down, Vinny was afraid he wouldn’t be able to find any definite lead. At most, he could only determine that it was a childish, low-level trick.

But what was certain was this: once someone was caught, no matter how minor the matter, it was enough to ruin their life.

Just like those students who had been imprisoned, once they were proven to have joined the Wind Discipline Committee, their fates were already sealed. Anyone who had harmed their fellow classmates would be punished to the very end.

Vinny recalled what his teacher had said: “Only by keeping one’s hands clean can you sleep peacefully. If you indulge in schemes, the only path that awaits you is a shrouded coffin.”

As long as you wore that robe, you had to be prepared to report to the East Island Academy.

“By the way, Classmate Vinny, that secret mission your father, Lord Marthvin, left behind—it must be extremely dangerous, right?” Shisiel asked in a low voice, unable to resist.

“In theory, yes. Otherwise, who would bother to make such a fuss over something passed down for so many years?” Vinny smiled faintly.

“This Vinny,” Shisiel sighed, “I’ve heard he’s a master of psychological suggestion...”

“...a bit farther away, so our records of them are relatively fewer,” Shisiel explained.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Vinny nodded slightly. “If you look at the continuity of history, it’s actually reasonable to see the Tylers and the Elven civilization placed on the same timeline. The existence of Marthvin’s civilization in historical records is quite normal.”

“I remember, back when I was in our family’s grand library, I saw references to this civilization. It said that their pantheon of gods and the gods we revere were completely different. The gods they believed in were full of mystery, totally unlike the gods of humanity that we worship today,” Shisiel recalled.

“Oh? You’ve even read those old texts? How impressive,” Vinny asked with mild interest. “Do you think what you read is credible? After all, the elves do have a long tradition of documentation.”

“Haha, when I was younger, I often wandered into our family’s archive halls. I even came across some scrolls written in Elvish, though I couldn’t fully understand them. Still, the family’s Hundred Compendium of History is the most complete on the continent. Even if I didn’t grasp everything, the general gist was there.”

“As for the gods worshiped by Marthvin’s people,” Shisiel continued, “I recall that they had a central deity, their supreme authority god, called ‘Eternal.’”

“The authority of that god was 【Healing】, 【Restoration】, 【Rebirth】 and the like.”

“So that’s how it was.” Vinny nodded, indicating she understood.

But then, a sudden thought struck her. “If that’s the case, then would the god worshiped by the Marthvin civilization, and the authority it held, be related to the ‘Healing’ god we humans worship today?”

If so, why had that supreme authority shifted into one of 【Continuation】 and 【Eternity】 instead?

Could it be that the Marthvin civilization’s god, along with the authority of 【Healing】, 【Restoration】, 【Rebirth】, gradually evolved over the years into 【Continuation】 and 【Eternity】?”

If that were true, it would be quite fascinating.

For a civilization that revered a god embodying 【Continuation】 and 【Eternity】, its final inheritor was now Yisiel, standing right here. It was as though the ancestors’ authority over ‘time’ itself had ultimately ended up in the Karaman Royal Family of the Trist Empire.

Over time, the results had become clear.

Yisiel’s 【Restoration】 and 【Healing】 authority was still incomplete, her current skills unable to surpass her own self-healing ratio even when she burned her life away.

In other words, it was a rather ironic inheritance.

“Then again, if the Marthvin civilization ultimately couldn’t continue, if it perished, wouldn’t that also make sense?”

“No need to worry. With the order token in hand, nothing unexpected will happen.” Vinny gave a slight shake of her hand, telling Shirmel not to worry about her.

“Even so, Vinny, you’d better be a little more cautious. Otherwise—how about I join the competition too?” Shirmel suggested.

“You? What are you joining for? If you really want to go, fine, but you don’t need to compete. Besides, you and I aren’t even in the same division, and the groups are already fixed. If you insist on this now, it’s way too late!” Vinny rolled her eyes.

“And honestly, Shirmel, even if you did get grouped with me, what would be the point? You’d only be dragging me down. Do you need me to look after you like I’m babysitting a child? Of course, unless you could suddenly transform into a full-fledged poet.”

After exchanging words, Vinny finished her breakfast early, then strapped on 【Frostfang】, donned her outer coat, and strode out of her dormitory with long, confident steps.