S-graded mana.
Magical strength and swordsmanship that easily surpassed even those years ahead of her. And the natural-born talent to wield both with frightening precision.
Add to that the blood of royalty—
And the inherited dignity of one of the most powerful nations in the world.
These were the things that made up Stacia Alger Del Luna.
Or rather, the things she was born with.
"…Hnn."
She let out a quiet yawn, brushing the side of her eye gently with her fingertips.
The soft morning sunlight crept through the glass of her tall windows, casting golden beams across her pristine room.
Another new day.
Stretching her arms in a slow, graceful motion, she rose from bed and walked barefoot across the marble flooring toward the full-body mirror that towered against the wall.
She stood there for a few seconds, gazing at her reflection—not out of vanity, but with a quiet expectation.
