019 An Accidental Encounter

Theresa rode Beetroot at a frantic pace, her eyes blurred with tears. Despite the wind howling fiercely at her sides, it could not scatter the ceaseless flow of tears from her eyes. Driven by the speed of the horse and her tear-filled vision, she could hardly make out the scenery around her, instinctively urging Beetroot along the wide road. Her mind was chaotic—at one moment, her heart and eyes were full of her mother’s frail, dying figure; the next, her uncle Jeff’s speculations echoed in her ears; sometimes, she felt as if her mother’s laughter was right before her; and at other times, she saw her mother lying in a white robe within the icy coffin.

In her confusion and distress, Theresa was recklessly fleeing, heedless of her path. Beetroot seemed affected by her emotions, running wildly and restlessly, achieving a speed it never reached before. Even Pedya, an expert rider, struggled to close the distance, watching helplessly as horse and rider sped through the rear gardens of Maple Manor, galloping northeast, and soon leaving the city behind.

By now, Theresa was utterly exhausted, her frail body weakened further by the emotional turmoil. She could only clutch the reins instinctively, lean forward, and let waves of dizzy confusion wash over her.

Pedya, who pursued Theresa out of the city, quickly noticed her deteriorating state, but Beetroot’s manic surge was like being on stimulants, making it impossible to intervene. After a frantic chase, Pedya discerned the direction they were headed, and hope stirred within him—Theresa was racing toward the practical campus of Cervantes Military Academy. The students there, skilled in practical training, would be able to assist if he timed it right, increasing the chance to safely intercept Theresa.

Pedya was calculating his options when, unexpectedly, Beetroot slowed after cresting a hill, beginning to circle within a specific area. The rhythmic jostling caused Theresa, already weak, to relax her limbs as the immediate danger passed, and she gently slid from Beetroot’s back, landing with a soft thud on the verdant lawn, slipping instantly into unconsciousness.

Pedya slowed his mount and stopped at the edge of the hill, not daring to step forward—a prudent move, for this was the Alchemy Department’s trial field. Though it looked like a simple lawn, it was riddled with traps and magical arrays, their number unknown to anyone.

From Beetroot’s behavior, Pedya guessed the horse had been trapped by a magical array—an unexpected outcome, but one that brought him relief. At least, for now, Theresa was safe.

“Hey, who are you, and how dare you trespass into someone else's trial grounds?” A sweet, youthful voice sounded from behind. Pedya turned to see an elderly man leading a boy and a girl toward the hill, the latter, a girl of thirteen or fourteen, had spoken.

Pedya was well-known at Cervantes Military Academy. The moment his cool, handsome face appeared, the two young students’ discontent melted away, their eyes lighting up with admiration.

“Senior Pedya, hello!” The boy and girl greeted him together, barely containing their excitement.

Pedya first saluted the elderly man, then responded to the boy and girl’s greetings.

“Pedya, it’s rare to see you here,” the old man joked. “What, have you finally tired of that old tyrant’s exploitation and decided to switch to alchemy under my tutelage?”

“Professor Carol, you jest,” Pedya replied with his usual icy composure. “My sister lost control of her emotions today and accidentally entered your trial field, triggering the magical array. I’m not sure of her condition and hope you might take a look.”

“Oh? That’s odd. I haven’t fully activated the trial array; how could she trigger it?” The old man raised his brows, then winked mischievously. “Could it be that your new sister is a magical prodigy?”

To prevent accidental injuries from students wandering into the trial field, the magical arrays here were usually in a semi-activated state, requiring a specific item with a unique magical wavelength to trigger them. Some individuals, naturally sensitive to magic, unconsciously adjust their own magical wavelength and activate the arrays without realizing it—Pedya was one such person, which explained why his magical training far surpassed his peers.

“Impossible!” Pedya exclaimed. “Tess’s magical talent is average, and her health has always been poor. She’s never trained in magic!”

“That makes it even stranger…” The old man’s interest was clearly piqued.

Hearing this, Pedya felt a wave of helplessness—this elder was notorious for his obsessive research; once something caught his interest, he rarely let go.

Full of curiosity, the old man crossed the lawn toward Theresa. The boy and girl who had followed him put down their magical devices and moved closer as well, leaving Pedya to wait at the edge of the hill in resignation.

“A rare, rare, truly rare thing!” Soon, the old man, facing away from Pedya, exclaimed in delight. “Such remarkable aptitude—so rare!”

Before Pedya could ask, the old man turned and beckoned. “Come over, come over. I’ve fully shut down the trial array, so you needn’t worry.”

Pedya hurried over, first checking Theresa’s condition. Though her upper body was dirty, she was unharmed, which eased his mind. He then asked the old man, “Professor Carol, you mentioned something rare—did you mean Tess?”

“Yes, your little sister’s aptitude is extremely rare. What do you say—would you let her become my student?” Professor Carol looked expectantly at Pedya, his demeanor more that of a child begging for sweets than an elderly scholar.

At these words, Pedya glanced unobtrusively at the boy and girl beside Carol. The boy was full of envy; the girl, though smiling, showed a flash of jealousy and discontent in her eyes—she hid it well, but Pedya’s keen observation caught it.

After a moment, Pedya picked up Theresa and said, “Professor Carol’s appreciation is Tess’s good fortune, but now may not be the right time to discuss it.”

“Oh, I’m so absent-minded,” Carol slapped his forehead, a bit embarrassed. “She must have suffered some shock, her mind was scattered and spirit unstable, and the illusion array just aggravated it, hence her fainting. Don’t worry, Pedya, she’ll be fine after a couple of days’ rest—bring her to me then. Her spiritual aptitude is excellent; it would be a shame if she didn’t become an alchemist.”

Pedya agreed, carried Theresa to his horse, whistled for Beetroot to follow, and the two riders left smoothly together.

***

When Theresa first awoke, she felt weak all over, as if countless wooden mallets were pounding her head, throbbing with pain. Despite her discomfort, her mind was unusually clear—she remembered Jeff and Betty’s words, remembered her wild flight…

Valienda… she repeated the name silently, as if etching it into her bones.

“Tess, you’re finally awake!” Betty’s voice was filled with relief and joy. “Sweetheart, tell Auntie, do you feel any pain?”

“Hurts… head…” Theresa croaked, and Betty immediately offered her a cup of warm water, gently helping her drink. Stroking Theresa’s hair, she soothed, “Tess, darling, your spirit is a bit overdrawn, so your head aches. Rest a little longer and you’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Betty rhythmically patted the covers, trying to coax her to sleep, but Theresa, unsure how long she’d been asleep, had no desire to rest. Fighting off the headache, she asked, “Aunt Betty, where’s Uncle?”

Betty’s hand paused in midair, then shifted to Theresa’s hand, sighing, “Alright, I’ll go find your uncle. You two need to talk.”

With that, Betty released her hand and left the bed. Soon, Jeff hurried in, approaching the bedside with a stream of concern and self-reproach.

“Uncle, I’m alright,” Theresa interrupted during a pause in his words. “Uncle, I want to ask about Mother… what really happened? Can you tell me the whole story in detail?”

Jeff froze, looking into Theresa’s eyes and seeing the deep green resolve there. He sighed—he knew her temperament was much like Renee’s, once determined, she never turned back.

“Alright, I’ll tell you…” After his sigh, Jeff recounted all the information he had gathered in Dimarca. At last, he hesitated for a long time before adding, “They left word, but what really happened, nobody knows. Don’t think too much—leave everything to me, understand?”

Theresa looked at him, neither nodding nor shaking her head, simply gazing intently, so that Jeff could only sigh deeply…