Alice POV
Alice sat in the center of the library.
Her eyes skimmed across the spines of books that towered above her like ancient, sleeping giants.
This was her family’s legacy: the Calloway Library.
The collection here was vast, overwhelming even.
It’s knowledge spanned centuries. It was a living record of her bloodline, and all information they gathered throughout their history.
And yet, after hours of reading, she found nothing of value.
“Nothing but praise,” she muttered, flipping another page in a leather-bound volume that smelled of dust and age. “Prim, pure, gentle…”
Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the text again.
It described the Saintess—the first matriarch of the Calloway family.
Saintess Aurelia Calloway. Revered in history as a model of virtue and restraint. The so-called perfect noblewoman.
Alice clenched her jaw and slammed the book shut.
The sound echoed through the vast library chamber.
“I don’t believe it,” she said under her breath.
She rose to her feet and paced between the shelves.
Her heels made soft clicks against the polished floor.
Her dragon instincts—always lurking beneath the surface—weren’t anything similar to what the Saintess showed.
They were wild.
They pushed her to fight, to dominate, to lash out when challenged.
She was trying to control them with time and training, but there were days when the impulses gnawed at her, clawed their way to the surface.
The Saintess never struggled like that? Really?
Alice stopped in front of a tall shelf, one hand resting on the edge.
“If she had the same blood I do… then where is the proof of it?”
She had expected more.
Some hint of a method to suppress the instinctual hunger for power that came with their dragon heritage.
Some trial, some ritual, even a warning.
But every book painted the Saintess as serene, composed, noble to a fault.
Too perfect.
And that didn’t sit right with Alice.
“These records… are they real?” she muttered. “Or just rewritten until the truth got buried?”
She rubbed her temples and exhaled.
Her patience was running out.
The afternoon had faded, and the golden sunlight no longer touched the high windows of the library.
Shadows stretched across the floor.
The silence was complete, save for the quiet flicker of mana crystals embedded in the walls.
“I need a break,” she said, backing away from the shelves.
She returned to the open floor at the center of the library and sat on the chair.
With a slow breath, she focused inward.
Solar mana, bright and fierce, answered her call immediately.
It ran through her veins like molten gold, heating her limbs, sharpening her senses.
Lately, her control over it had grown.
Ever since her Solar Affinity reached Level 3, she’d noticed something new.
Night vision. Her eyes could pierce the dark with ease.
The moment the thought crossed her mind, the mana inside her pulsed, and the shadows around the library peeled away like mist.
Everything turned brighter, and clearer.
Her gaze swept across the room. The thousands of books were visible to her along with every small imperfection.
But then, something caught her eye.
A book.
It glowed faintly.
Alice stood and approached it.
Her fingers wrapped around the spine and pulled it free. She flipped it open carefully, pages fluttering until one stopped her.
There a word was glowing.
Just a single word.
Her breath caught.
She turned the page.
Another glowing word.
Then another.
“This…”
She scanned the glowing lines.
They weren’t related to the main text at all.
It was as if someone had hidden an entirely different message beneath the official narrative.
Then she noticed something else. Across the library, on another shelf, another book flickered faintly. Then another.
And another.
She moved from shelf to shelf, drawn by the glimmer.
Each book was old, well-worn, likely unread in centuries.
And in each one, just like the first, she found shining fragments—words, phrases, sometimes entire paragraphs—that didn’t match the original script.
Instructions. Descriptions. Memories. All carefully buried beneath the surface.
Alice’s hands trembled as she flipped through more and more of them.
“These… this was left behind,” she murmured, “for someone like me.”
A dragon-blooded heir.
Someone who awakened the instincts.
She wasn’t imagining things.
Her ancestor had hidden these messages intentionally, likely as a way to keep their truths safe from prying eyes, or from those unworthy of the knowledge.
Not just any Calloway could see this.
Only one with dragon blood, and one with high Solar Affinity to awaken night vision. That had to be the trigger. That, or maybe it was something else and she noticed it by pure luck.
Whatever it was, Alice was not complaining.
With renewed focus, Alice began collecting the books.
She stacked them on a wide wooden table and flipped through each carefully, copying the glowing lines into a fresh leather-bound journal.
She wrote quickly but with precision, eyes darting across pages, hands guided by something deeper than simple curiosity.
There were no titles for what she was collecting. No proper Chapters. But the meaning was starting to become clear.
These weren’t just scattered thoughts.
They were instructions. Techniques. Warnings.
Descriptions of what it felt like when the dragon instincts stirred. How to control them. How to push past the bloodlust and use it, without being consumed. How to blend it with mana. How to maintain clarity when your mind screamed for battle.
One passage stood out.
“Do not suppress the flame. Guide it. Give it a shape, and it will serve. Resist it blindly, and it will consume.”
Alice paused after writing that line.
She remembered her worst moments.
They were the times where rage clouded everything, where she felt barely human. Whenever that happened, she would attack without restraint.
These written contents… they with her experience more than anything the public records claimed.
The Saintess hadn’t been immune.
She had just mastered it.
It had all been hidden on purpose.
And now, finally, Alice was beginning to see the truth.
The day passed quickly as she worked.
Night had fallen, but the library glowed brighter than ever in her enhanced sight.
Her hands were ink-stained, but her eyes burned with determination.
By the time she closed the final book, the journal beside her was half-full with glowing words copied word for word.
She pressed the cover shut and ran her fingers across the leather.
“I can finally go back home.”
She quickly closed the journal and took it, intending to read it at home.
After returning the books to the shelves, she stepped out of the library and went to the dining hall.
Uncle should be there, having dinner.
She would say goodbye and leave.
’Or maybe I should stay another day?’
She felt a bit guilty, knowing her uncle must’ve wanted her to stay. But here she was, planning to return as soon as possible.
’We are family. Uncle understands me. He wouldn’t mind if I leave abruptly.’ She told herself.
She opened the hall’s door, and….
“Isaac?”
He was feeding Selene with his hands.
…
Isaac POV
Several Hours Ago
The stronghold market was always bustling in the late afternoon.
Isaac was planning to go back home after a short walk.
They moved from stall to stall with Tyr occasionally pointing at some weapon shops.
Isaac brought the weapons for him. Tyr was holding them with fascination, like they were toys.
It was during this little errand run that they crossed paths with Selene.
“Isaac!” she had called out, waving from across the walkway.
He turned, surprised. “Selene?”
She walked over, dressed in elegant clothes.
“You are shopping too?”
“Kind of,” Isaac replied.
He glanced behind him—but Catherine and Tyr were gone. Just… gone.
’Huh?’
’Where did they go?’
They disappeared in an instant.
’Professor…you…’
He wasn’t stupid. The timing of Professor Catherine disappearance made her intentions clear.
’Crazy woman.’
“Isaac? Is there something wrong?” Selene asked.
“I was just thinking if you would like to have a coffee with me.”
They ended up entering a small café tucked into the side of the market square. Selene and Isaac placed their orders.
He gave her a curious glance.
“I didn’t expect to see you at the market.”
“I was working all day,” she replied. “Figured I’d come here to relax.”
“Relax?” Isaac raised a brow. “Here in the stronghold?”
Selene didn’t respond right away. Instead, her eyes narrowed slightly. A mischievous glint crept in. She leaned forward, just a little.
Isaac recognized that look.
Alice used to give him that exact expression whenever she did something she was proud of and wanted to brag about it.
’They really are sisters.’ He chuckled inwardly.
“Alright. What happened?”
“Nothing much,” Selene said with a shrug. “Just dealt with a small problem.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Problem?”
“Fennel Corporation. They were planning to sabotage your business. I handled it.”
Isaac straightened in his seat.
“You what?”
She smiled, and explained everything to him.
He had known the Fennel were going to make trouble. He was planning to deal with it personally within the week.
But Selene had already finished it?
“…Thank you,” he said.
She leaned back, pretending to be casual. But the gleam in her eyes said otherwise.
“That’s it?” she said. “Just a thank you?”
“What else do you want?”
She pouted. “Brother-in-law, I didn’t work that hard just for a thank you.”
Isaac’s lips twitched.
“Brother-in-law?”
“Yes, is there something wrong?” she asked innocently.
“…what do you want?”
She was acting like a suspicious person trying to curry favor with their boss by speaking good things about them.
Generally, those situations led to problematic situations for the boss.
“I don’t need anything, brother-in-law. I didn’t do it for something in return.”
Isaac was exasperated.
’This girl…’
Her attitude had taken a complete 180 degree after she became friends with him.
Was her elegant persona just a mask, and was this her true personality?