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    Her memories were buried in very small things.

    The corridors she held her hand in tightly to avoid getting lost.

    The flowers they grew together in the garden.

    The fairy tale book she read to her before she slept.

    The stray cat she pestered and nagged for her to adopt.

    … Looking back, Sylvia only had eight years of memories.

    That was the only time she spent with her mother, after all.

    Human memories piled up like grains of sand, the oldest of them sinking at the bottom as countless more piled up on top.

    Throughout that process, their weight grew heavier as time flowed. Some were buried under that weight, but some remained at the top like fragments incapable of being brought down. Those were the ones that stabbed one’s soul sharply.

    That was the type of memory Sylvia had.

    They could never be buried in the sand or swept away, and time never healed them or made them fade.

    Since her mother passed away, her heart ceased to change.

    However, at some point, Sylvia felt a new existence standing on her sand.

    He protected her from Rock Hark, at Bercht, and from the Baron of Ashes.

    Perhaps he shared the same sadness as her.

    He grew like a stalk in her mind, in a barren and desolate land.

    Before Sylvia went to sleep, whenever she shivered from the cold, and the loneliness within her suffocated her, she thought of him.

    She knew what that meant.

    It was so clear that she could no longer deny it.

    But perhaps that was why it was even more painful.

    … She slowly opened her eyes, the white ceiling and the flickering of lights immediately came into view. She felt dizzy.

    Sylvia remained immobile for quite a long time.

    Shrrrrkk—

    The sound of a page being turned softly echoed in the room, causing her to move her eyes vacantly towards its source, finding professor Deculein sitting on a chair next to her.

    Almost as if he felt her gaze on him, he spoke while reading a book.

    “The test is over.”

    “…”

    His blue eyes met hers. They sparkled like crystals, but they were as cold as ice.

    “All your other grades for the semester are perfect, so you should at least earn an A.”

    The final exam made up 35% of the students’ grade evaluation, but Sylvia got perfect scores for the remaining 65%.

    The difference between her and Epherene before the final exam was 20 points. Even if she scored 0 in the finals, she would only step down from 1st place but would remain among the highest ranks.

    “… Professor.”

    “With your grade, you’d be able to go up to the Isle of Wizard’s Wealth.”

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