Chapter 153: The Crossroads of Sisters
Jade’s body stirred on the grass, a low groan escaping his lips as he clutched at his side. "Ahh... god..." he winced, coughing harshly, each breath scraping through his throat. He rolled onto his left, trying to push himself upright, but his limbs felt like lead. The moment he tried, his strength faltered and he collapsed back onto the torn Bermuda ground, the blades of grass cool against his slightest burn skin.
For a long second, he just lay there again, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. His eyes flickered weakly toward the window above.... and there they were. Dila and Fran, their figures framed against the dim light of the dorm. His pride ached more sharply than his wounds. He quickly turned his head away, face tightening as shame flooded him. He could not let them see him like this—broken, trembling, barely able to move.
Still, Jade forced his body to respond. His arm pressed into the soil, his legs straining as he pushed. His body shook violently, but he dragged himself into a kneeling position, right knee grounded, swordless hands pressed against the earth for balance. He stayed there, hunched and breathless, his dark hair sticking to his damp forehead.
And then, before his will could collapse again, a faint glimmer caught his eye. His sword.... its blade had landed upright in the grass a few feet away, its tip sunk deep into the soil, glowing faintly as if waiting for him.
Jade’s lips moved, his voice hoarse but steady. "Thank you..."
He lifted his head with effort, emerald eyes sharp even through the haze of pain. He was thanking the sisters... thanking that they intervened, And save him from the hands of the death. As he stared at the sword the glow reflected in his eyes, and though his body trembled, his spirit still refused to break.
The air outside was still tense, the faint scent of damp earth lingering in the garden below. The Bermuda grass swayed gently, kissed by the evening breeze, the silence only broken by the faint groan of a boy’s pain.
He tried to stand this time then Jade staggered forward, his body heavy as if every bone carried the weight of iron. His right foot dragged against the soft earth, leaving shallow grooves in the grass with each unsteady step. His left arm hung tight against his side, trembling, while his breaths came ragged and uneven.
Up above, Fran’s eyes widened. She gripped the edge of the open window frame with her small hands, ears twitching nervously. "Sister... is he gonna be okay?" Her voice cracked, breaking the stillness with a sharp note of worry.
Beside her, Dila stood silently, her blue eyes following Jade’s every stagger. Her expression was cold, but her heart trembled underneath. She let out a soft breath and answered, her voice low. "I... don’t know." The uncertainty in her tone made Fran’s tail curl close around her waist.
Jade finally reached the place where his sword had fallen. The blade lay half-buried in the Bermuda grass, its jagged edges glinting faintly in the sunlight. He lowered himself shakily, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. The air around him felt heavy, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
With a trembling hand, he reached forward. His fingers brushed the green crystal hilt. In that instant, the weapon stirred. The faint glow of the jade mark at the center of the blade pulsed, alive, and then the sword seemed to melt into his palm. Like water rushing through a crack, the weapon was absorbed into him, sinking into his hand until nothing remained but the faint shimmer of light tracing along his veins.
He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily, the relief mingled with the weight of his pain. The garden seemed to quiet around him, the breeze stilling as if nature itself bowed to the sword’s return.
From the window, Dila and Fran both watched, their figures framed in the sunlight. Neither spoke, but both felt the strangeness of the moment... the boy’s suffering, his struggle, and the way his blade answered only to him.
Jade lips parted, and though his voice shook with exhaustion, it carried a strange calmness, as if he were trying to anchor himself against the pain. "You... see nothing..." he murmured, his words trembling but steady enough to pierce the heavy silence.
Then, lifting his gaze toward them, his tone lowered even further, almost like a whisper meant to be remembered. "The area has been sealed... by the veil of illusion."
The moment he spoke, a ripple spread across the space around him. The daylight shimmered unnaturally, like heat rising off stone, and the garden itself seemed to waver. Dila narrowed her eyes, clutching the window frame, her silver-white hair shifting in the light breeze. Fran leaned out beside her, her mouth parted in awe.
And then it happened.
The shattered earth, the torn grass, the signs of battle... all of it dissolved before their eyes. The wreckage folded in on itself, washed away as if reality had been rewritten. The Bermuda grass stood tall again, soft and untouched, every blade swaying lazily under the morning sun. Flowers bloomed unbroken. The air returned to stillness, unmarked by violence.
Jade’s figure, still trembling only moments ago, began to blur within the light. His outline shimmered like mist, until in the next heartbeat... he was gone.
Fran’s jaw hung open, her blue eyes wide. "Sister..." she stammered, clutching the sill tighter. "Are we just... dreaming?"
Dila’s brows furrowed, her gaze fixed on the empty garden below. The sharp glare of the daylight reflected against her eyes, but her tone carried weight when she answered, her voice low and certain. "No."
The garden was whole. The day was bright. But what they had just witnessed could never be mistaken for a dream.
After everything they witnessed, finally they brush it out while preparing their selves for the morning class.
Dila’s hair as she tied the ribbon of her academy capelet. Fran was fussing with her dagger strap, her cat ears twitching as she hummed, trying to distract herself from the heaviness of today’s morning . The quiet was soft... almost too soft, like they were both pretending that the air wasn’t still heavy with memories of the fight.
Just as Fran adjusted the last lace on her uniform, the door suddenly flew open with a bright clatter.
"Surprise!" the maids chimed, their voices warm like the rising sun. They streamed into the room with trays and baskets, carrying the morning’s brightness on their shoulders. The smell of warm bread, fresh fruits, honey and tea drifted in with them, filling the air with comfort.
One of the younger maids, cheeks flushed with cheer, stepped forward and greeted with a sing-song tone, "Hello, angels!" Her smile was wide, her eyes gleaming as if the morning itself had walked through the door.
Fran blinked, caught off guard, then broke into a quick grin, her blue eyes lighting up. Dila glanced toward her, then slowly softened as well, her lips curving into a faint but graceful smile. They both nodded, their expressions calm, as if nothing unusual had ever touched the peace of the morning.
No fear. No fight. No cloaked figure in the garden.
Only two girls, smiling politely at their maids, the scent of fresh breakfast wrapping around them, pretending the night had been nothing more than a shadow that faded with the dawn.
As the scent of baked bread and honey still lingered in the air as the maids carefully set down trays of food, the steam from the tea curling upward like thin morning clouds.
Dila, still smoothing the sleeve of her uniform, hesitated. Her blue eyes flicked toward Fran for a heartbeat, then she turned to the maids, her voice soft and uncertain.
"Umm... hey... did you maids hear the ruckus outside? Like... the big boom, the slash... the zoom?" Her words trailed into the air like nervous ripples in water.
For a moment, the room stilled. Fran’s ears twitched lightly, catching the silence. Then, one of the older maids, nodded gently, her hands folded in front of her. The other maids exchanged quick glances, their eyes meeting in quiet confusion. Finally, one spoke, polite but firm.
"Pardoned, my lady... we heard nothing."
They blinked innocently, their faces calm as though the world outside had been untouched.
The younger maid, the one who had called them "angels," tilted her head and smiled with playful ease. "Maybe the angel is still dreaming from last night," she said, her voice lighthearted. A small chuckle followed, the sound warm but oddly dismissive.
Dila forced a laugh, her hand brushing her silver hair back from her face. "Yeah... maybe me and Fran were just dreaming something unusual." She gave Fran a quick look, a silent nudge.
Fran picked it up instantly. She tilted her head, her cat ears flicking as she let out a soft giggle. "Yeah! We love dreaming about fighting!" she chimed, exaggerating her cuteness with wide eyes and a playful smile.
The maids melted with delight, clasping their hands together. "Awwww, really cute," they cooed, their voices blending like a chorus.
As they gathered themselves, the empty trays balanced neatly in their hands, one of the elder maids offered warmly, "Eat up, angels. You’ll need strength and brain power for your morning classes."
"Yes, that’s right," another added with a reassuring nod.
They moved gracefully toward the door, their long skirts brushing softly across the floor. With a final bow, they slipped out, and the door closed gently behind them, leaving behind the quiet hum of morning light... and the heavy silence that pressed between Dila and Fran once again.
The plates of food still carried a soft warmth, the scent of buttered bread, honey, and steaming tea filling the air as sunlight spilled through the tall windows. The room had grown quieter since the maids left, but that silence only seemed to make the memory of the battle outside weigh heavier in their hearts.
Dila and Fran sat separately on their beds, small tables in front of them. Fran’s fork trembled slightly in her hand as she tried to bring a piece of fruit to her mouth, her cat ears twitching every so often, betraying her restlessness. She finally broke the silence, her voice wavering.
"I... I still can’t believe what I saw, sis. That cloaked guy... he’s powerful." Her eyes lowered to her plate, as if admitting it out loud made it even more frightening.
Dila paused mid-bite, the bread soft against her lips before she set it back down. She leaned back against the headboard of the bed, her silver hair brushing her shoulders, eyes thoughtful yet stern. "Indeed..." she finally said, her tone low but steady. "We must not encounter that. We have no business with that man... none at all. If we do, we risk our lives... big time."
The firmness in her words hung in the air, carrying both her cold reasoning and her quiet fear. Fran’s hands curled tightly into her lap as she nodded quickly, almost frantically, as though agreeing would keep them safe.
"I know... I know, sis," she said softly, her voice trembling. She took another bite just to occupy her mouth, but her eyes still lingered on the window, haunted by what she had seen.
Meanwhile, Dila took her cup of tea and held it steady in her hands, her gaze distant. She sipped slowly, but in her heart she knew the image of Jade fighting... and nearly falling... would not leave her mind any time soon.
Finally as they have done eating and prepared to head out at the double door Dila and Fran push it gently.
As they are outside.....
The soft clack of polished shoes and the rustle of fine silks filled the long marble hallway as nobles emerged from their rooms. The air smelled faintly of perfume and morning incense, sunlight streaming through tall glass panes and painting golden patches across the floor. The princes and princesses walked with refined grace, their backs straight, hands folded, every step measured like a rehearsed dance.
Fran, of course, couldn’t resist.
She puffed out her cheeks and stuck her nose high in the air, strutting forward with exaggerated elegance. Her dagger still bounced at her side, completely ruining the image, but she swayed her arms as though she were carrying a gown twice her size. "Ah yes... indeed, quite splendid weather today... don’t you agree, my dear sister?" she said in a lofty, nasal tone, almost tripping over her own feet.
Dila, walking calmly beside her, clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to suppress a laugh. Her silver hair shimmered under the light as she shook her head. "Fran... stop, you’re going to make a scene," she whispered, but her shoulders trembled from holding back her giggles.
Fran only leaned further into her act, fluttering her lashes at passing noble boys, and giving a dramatic curtsey that was far too low. She popped back up, grinning, and whispered loudly, "Look, sis, I’m more noble than a noble! Call me Lady Fran of Fancy!"
Dila finally broke, her soft laughter escaping as she leaned against the hallway wall for support. Her usually composed, cool face was brightened by the rare smile, and a small sparkle lingered in her eyes.
What made it even funnier was that none of the real nobles reacted. The princes and princesses, poised and proper, simply continued walking, completely unbothered by Fran’s antics, as though she were invisible in her mockery. It only made Fran double down, puffing her chest like a peacock and waving to them dramatically.
"Oh, such refined elegance! Did you see how graceful my bow was, sis? They didn’t mind at all! I might as well marry into royalty!" Fran whispered proudly, though her tail swished mischievously behind her.
Dila shook her head again, her laughter softer now, but warm. "You’re impossible, Fran... but maybe that’s what makes you so adorable," she said, her voice carrying a gentle affection she often tried to hide.
Then they continued to walk.
The hallway stretched wide and gleaming, the polished marble floors reflecting their steps as they walked side by side. Chandeliers above glowed warmly, casting long shadows that seemed to follow them like silent companions. They reached the great fork of the academy halls, where a tall carved sign stood proudly at the split. On the left, etched in sharp black letters: Assassin School. On the right, glowing softly with silver runes: Mage School.
Dila slowed her pace, her blue eyes drifting to the sign, and then to Fran. A small smile tugged at her lips, though it was tinged with a quiet sadness. "Looks like... this is it," she said softly, her voice calm but carrying a heaviness beneath.
Before Dila could take another step, Fran suddenly turned and clung to her, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister’s waist. Her head pressed against Dila’s chest, her cat ears drooping low. "No, sister... don’t leave me," she whispered, her voice trembling as though she were a little child again. She snuggled deeper into Dila’s chest, as if hiding from the world, her tail curling tightly around her leg.
Dila’s heart ached at the desperation in Fran’s embrace. She lifted her hand and gently stroked Fran’s dark navy-blue hair, smoothing it down as if soothing a frightened kitten. Her usually cold and composed face softened, a warmth breaking through.
"Fran..." she murmured, lowering her chin to rest lightly against the top of her head. "We won’t really be apart. We’ll see each other again after classes... and every night in our dorm. This is just part of our path, remember? Yours as an assassin, mine as a mage."
But Fran only tightened her hug, shaking her head furiously. "I don’t care... I don’t want paths if it means leaving you... I’m scared, sis. Scared of being alone." Her voice cracked, and she sniffled quietly, her little frame trembling.
Dila closed her eyes, holding her sister close, the weight of Fran’s fear pressing into her chest. For a moment, she wished she could throw away all duties, all branches, all destinies—just so Fran wouldn’t feel this pain. She hugged her tighter, whispering, "I’m here... always. Even if we walk different halls, I’ll never leave you. That’s my promise as your sister."
The sound of distant students echoed faintly through the halls, yet in that split corridor it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them, clinging together at the crossroads of their futures.
Fran’s arms still clung to Dila like she never wanted to let go. Dila sighed softly, the kind of sigh that carried both love and helplessness. Her smile was faint but warm as she lowered her hand to gently rub Fran’s head again, fingers brushing through her soft navy-blue hair.
"How about this..." Dila whispered, her voice tender. "Every night, instead of sleeping in our separate beds... I’ll sleep beside you. I’ll hold you while you fall asleep. Deal?"
Fran’s cat ears instantly perked up, twitching with excitement. Her wide blue eyes shot upward, shining with hope as she tilted her head back to look at Dila. "R-really, sis?" she asked, her voice trembling between disbelief and joy.
"Yes... really," Dila said with a soft nod, her hand still stroking Fran’s hair. A gentle smile curved her lips, rare and fragile, like a secret only Fran could see. "I mean it, Fran. Every night."
Fran’s tail began swishing furiously, curling and flicking in pure excitement. She let out a squeal of happiness, bouncing a little in Dila’s arms. "Yeheyyyyy! I get to hug sister, I get to hug sister every night! Yesss!" She spun around in delight, her voice echoing down the grand hallway, unbothered by who heard.
A few nobles passing by glanced at the scene. Their elegant robes and dignified steps contrasted sharply with Fran’s childish display, yet none of them frowned or sneered. Instead, they simply walked on, smiling faintly, as if warmed by the sisterly bond on display.
Fran, brimming with joy, finally loosened her hug. She gave one last squeeze before pulling away, her smile beaming brighter than the chandelier lights above. She skipped a few steps toward the assassin hallway, her navy hair bouncing behind her, then spun around to wave frantically.
"I’m looking forward to it, sis!" she shouted, her voice full of innocent trust. "Don’t let me down!" Her tail flicked high, ears perked, her whole figure glowing with excitement.
Dila stood there in the branching hall, watching her sister disappear into the assassin’s path. A soft smile lingered on her face, her heart warmed by Fran’s joy. She whispered under her breath, so quietly only she could hear... "I won’t let you down, Fran. Never."