The deeper they went, the heavier the dampness became.

The leading male servant opened the lock of the dungeon, stepped aside, and the maid carrying Celitia walked into the cell, unceremoniously throwing the girl onto the ground.

Accompanied by a dull "thud," Celitia was thrown onto the cold, hard floor, her body nearly falling apart from the impact.

Fortunately, she had been somewhat prepared and barely managed to protect her head with both hands.

Her vision was blurry as Celitia gasped urgently, listening to the low conversation between the two people beside her.

"There are shackles here. Should we lock her up?" the maid asked. "She doesn't look like she can move around anyway, so it should be unnecessary, right?"

"Madam specifically instructed that she absolutely cannot be allowed to escape."

The male servant replied, "Although I also think she shouldn't have a chance, for the sake of caution, let's still lock her up. Otherwise, if she really does escape, we'll be finished."

"You're right." The maid agreed completely.

The sound of dragging chains echoed in the cramped cell. Cold shackles locked around her wrists and ankles, yet Celitia remained curled up on the ground without the slightest struggle.

She curled up like an injured small beast, her pale cheeks stained with the black grime from the floor, her light ash-blonde long curls disheveled and spread out, a stark contrast of black and white.

The shackles bound her slender limbs, connected to the wall behind, ensuring the girl had not the slightest possibility of escape.

"Sigh..."

The maid stood up, looking at the girl with tightly closed eyes, and rarely let out a long sigh.

"Miss Celitia actually isn't a harsh person, especially compared to that one..."

Although the male servant wanted to warn the maid not to say things that could bring trouble, he still sighed along with her.

"I hope in the next life, the young miss can be reborn into a happy family."

On this cold winter day, without any heating measures, neither of them believed Celitia could survive the night.

"Let's go."

The footsteps gradually faded away, and everything returned to silence.

Only her own breathing could be heard, faint and prolonged, echoing in this narrow and cold cell.

Celitia actually didn't know whether she could survive, but she could only choose to gamble.

The weaker one was, the more one could only rely on luck.

The pain in her body was like a bone-eating poison, stabbing at Celitia's nerves again and again.

She couldn't help but begin recalling how exactly her power had erupted.

There were many strange things about her body. The battle energy and magical power she had painstakingly cultivated after rebirth were nowhere to be found, yet at crucial moments they could burst forth together with additional power.

As if... connected to some unknown place.

Also, why was it that after becoming seriously ill, she could recover to her original state after a period of time?

There were too many mysteries, even Celitia couldn't figure them out.

"...Cough cough... cough cough cough..."

Her lungs felt as if they were burning, the metallic sweetness surged up from her throat again. Celitia arched her back, tightly covering her mouth, letting the warm blood fill her palm.

The chains dragged on the floor, making crisp "clank clank" sounds. Celitia finally barely stopped coughing, tightly hugging her knees and curling herself into an even tighter ball.

Only this position could make her feel a little bit of security.

Her cheeks burned hot, her body temperature rising steadily, even warming the floor temperature by a few degrees.

So cold.

No light, no sound, only endless darkness and cold enveloping the curled-up girl.

In the darkness and cold filling the room, Celitia lost consciousness.

She vaguely had a dream she had experienced before.

An inverted world, floating clouds.

What was that?

Gradually, she seemed to hear distant calls by her ear.

Who was persistently calling her name?

A faint warm current followed her blood circulation throughout her body, dispelling the bone-deep chill, nourishing her injured body, gradually smoothing away the lingering pain.

"Are you feeling better?"

Someone seemed to be asking her, their voice coming from very, very far away, like a ray of sunlight dispelling the gloom.

Warm... and gentle...

It seemed like... mother's scent...

The cold and pain that had been tormenting her disappeared. Her body felt warm, and she regained about thirty percent of her strength.

Celitia slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was still a bit blurry, and she saw several people surrounding her.

"Lily!!"

The girl crouched in front of her let out a joyful cry, suddenly lunging forward and tightly hugging Celitia's neck.

"My goddess, you've finally awakened. Please don't scare us like this again, okay?"

Recognizing the familiar voice, Celitia slowly spoke: "...Sophia?"

As her vision gradually cleared, Celitia then recognized the person sitting by the bed, tightly holding her hand: "Your Majesty Queen Marianne?"

Celitia's mind was a bit slow to process. She thought she should be in the dungeon, so why did she see Sophia and Marianne when she woke up?

Was she still dreaming?

"Where... is this?"

Celitia asked slowly, her voice so hoarse she could barely speak.

Luna, who had been standing guard at the outermost edge, hurriedly got up, picked up a cup of hot tea from the table behind, and brought it to Celitia's lips.

"Don't worry, Lily. Everything's alright now. Have some water and take it easy, okay?"

Celitia struggled a bit. Sophia quickly helped her sit up halfway, took the teacup from Luna's hands, and carefully fed her a sip of water.

Celitia coughed softly and persisted in asking: "Where is this? I should have... been locked in the dungeon..."

She had already prepared to endure through sheer willpower.

This tenacity had long been carved into her bones—she would never admit defeat no matter what.

Celitia hadn't seriously injured Olar. With his injuries, he would wake up in at most a day or two.

The Kingdom of Lansca prohibited nobles from using private punishment. Privately torturing or executing slaves would result in punishment, let alone the fact that she was still the legitimate child of a viscount.

So even if Lady Herbert was furious, she couldn't privately take any retaliatory measures against Celitia.

Even if she wanted to torment her by confining her to the dungeon, it couldn't last long.

Because the academy's rest days were only two days, and when she didn't show up for school, Sophia would definitely notice something was wrong.

That's right—Celitia's ultimate reliance was actually Sophia.

To be fair, Celitia didn't want to scheme against Sophia, but this was a method with no alternatives.

If she could intervene and bring the matter to light, she could at least receive fair treatment.

Being released from the dungeon would already be a good outcome.

But she never expected that upon waking, she would see Sophia and Marianne guarding by her side.

This development was somewhat beyond Celitia's expectations.

"How many days have passed?" Celitia asked.

"It's the morning of the second day now," Sophia answered.