Chapter 42: A Measured Distance
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Tobias didn't speak.
He hadn't said a word since Jessica comforted the little vampire girl in a language she had no business knowing.
He hadn't reacted.
Hadn't questioned it.
He had just stood there.
Thinking.
Calculating.
And, ultimately—deciding not to deal with this right now.
Because if he did...
If he acknowledged it—he'd have to face something he wasn't ready for.
He exhaled slowly.
Then, without looking at either of them, he turned toward the door.
"I'll leave you two to talk," he said, voice steady, neutral.
Jessica blinked at him.
"...You don't want to hear whatever this is?"
Tobias paused at the doorway.
"I think it's better if you handle this one."
And with that—he left.
Not in a rush.
Not stiffly.
Just casually, as if he hadn't just heard something that shook his entire world.
Jessica tilted her head slightly but didn't think much of it.
Zyrenia, still rubbing at her eyes, glanced after him briefly before turning back to Jessica.
Jessica looked at her.
Zyrenia stared back.
"...So," Jessica finally said. "What exactly do you want to talk about?"
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Zyrenia was still trying to make sense of Jessica.
She wasn't like anyone she had met before.
She wasn't charismatic like a leader, but she was undeniably sharp.
She wasn't dramatic about her intelligence, but she wasn't hiding it, either.
She was just... measured.
Distant, but not unkind.
Detached, but not disinterested.
For a human, she was odd.
For a potential tactician, she was terrifying.
And Zyrenia wanted to know more.
Jessica had barely been emotional at all during this conversation.
The only moments where she showed even the slightest warmth were when she had bantered with her brother before he left...
...and when she invited Zyrenia in.
Everything else had been a steady, unreadable distance.
Which made the next part even stranger.
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"...I heard about you in the envoy letter," Zyrenia said, tilting her head slightly. "It said you were a cripple."
Jessica blinked.
Then, to Zyrenia's complete surprise—she let out a quiet chuckle.
Zyrenia froze.
That was... unexpected.
Jessica hadn't laughed once in this entire conversation.
She hadn't reacted emotionally to anything.
She had been measured, distant—always in control.
And now, she was lightly chuckling at the fact that the Royals made sure to label her a magic cripple.
Jessica shook her head slightly, amused.
"That sounds like something they'd do," she muttered.
Zyrenia narrowed her eyes slightly.
"...You don't seem too bothered by it."
Jessica shrugged.
"I don't have magic," she said simply.
Zyrenia waited.
Jessica continued, completely unbothered.
"And even if I did," she said, "I don't think I would have used it."
Zyrenia stared.
"...What?"
Jessica tilted her head slightly.
"I've never wanted magic," she said. "Even if I had it, I doubt I would've done anything with it."
Zyrenia felt her mind short-circuit.
Jessica Moran, a human noble, was saying this as if it were nothing.
Zyrenia leaned forward slightly.
"...You're telling me that even if you had magic, you still wouldn't use it?"
Jessica nodded. "Probably not."
Zyrenia couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Even demons, who had a history of aura warriors, had mostly abandoned it.
Aura was seen as inferior.
An unreliable, outdated tool for foot soldiers who couldn't afford magic lessons.
And yet—here was a human noble, sitting in front of her, saying she would have willingly chosen it over magic.
Casually.
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Zyrenia exhaled sharply.
She wasn't getting anywhere.
Jessica was too frustratingly simple in her answers.
Nothing she said felt **like she was hiding anything—**but it still made no sense.
Zyrenia crossed her arms.
"...So what about me?"
Jessica blinked. "What about you?"
Zyrenia narrowed her eyes.
"If you're so good at reading things," she muttered, "what do you see about me?"
Jessica tilted her head slightly, then studied her.
For a moment, Zyrenia felt something sharp pass over her—
Something observant.
Jessica's gaze wasn't **prying or invasive—**but it was deep.
Like she was peeling back a layer she wasn't supposed to see.
Then, as casually as ever, Jessica said—
"You use fire magic."
Zyrenia froze.
Her entire body went rigid.
Jessica wasn't even looking at her face anymore.
She was glancing at her hands, the faint shimmer of warmth embedded in her mana.
"...Wait." Zyrenia blinked. "I never told you that."
Jessica looked back up.
Her expression was calm, unbothered.
"I can see it," she said simply.
Zyrenia's breath hitched.
Jessica could see mana.
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Jessica let that statement hang in the air.
Then, after a brief pause, she asked—
"How do you feel about your fire magic?"
Zyrenia blinked.
Jessica continued, her tone still measured.
"If you could, would you use wind?" she asked. "What about water? Earth?"
Zyrenia hesitated.
Jessica continued.
"I'm sure there are plenty of people who think certain elements are stronger in specific situations."
She glanced at Zyrenia.
"But I personally believe that relying on belief to make everyone stronger is better than a single person being strong."
Zyrenia stilled.
Jessica's voice was calm, even.
But her words...
Her words landed with weight.
"That's the skill that really determines the leader from the warrior," Jessica said.
She leaned back slightly.
"The ability to make their troops believe."
Zyrenia swallowed.
Jessica looked at her, steady.
"Aura is how you grant belief to your foot soldiers," she said.
"Give them something to aspire to."
Jessica's tone was not arrogant.
Not dramatic.
Not even preachy.
It was just... factual.
As if this was something she had already accepted as truth.
Most armies had far more foot soldiers than elementals.
Magic was powerful.
But belief was stronger.
And that was how demons had survived extinction.
Zyrenia didn't answer.
Not because she didn't want to.
But because she didn't know what to say.
Jessica's words were logical.
But they went against everything she had been taught.
And yet—
They made too much sense to ignore.
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Zyrenia had no response.
Jessica's words had settled deep in her chest, wrapping around her like something too simple, too obvious, to have ever been said before.
A leader's strength wasn't about how much stronger they were than everyone else.
It was about how much they made others believe in their strength.
Aura wasn't about personal power.
It was about making an army stronger by sheer conviction.
And the greatest leader in demon history—the one who shattered her chains and led their people back from the brink of extinction—
Had not used magic.
Zyrenia felt small.
Not in the way she usually did, as the youngest in her family.
Not in the way she did when she was ignored for being young.
But because a human, a magic cripple, had just turned her entire worldview upside down.
Jessica wasn't even looking at her anymore.
She was casually adjusting one of her candles, as if this conversation had been no more significant than talking about the weather.
Zyrenia exhaled sharply.
"...I should go."
Jessica glanced up.
"Alright."
Zyrenia stood, suddenly desperate to leave.
To process.
To think.
To get away from whatever the hell this girl was.
Jessica watched her for a moment, then picked up something from the desk beside her.
Zyrenia turned to leave—only to freeze when Jessica handed her something.
A candle.
A wax carving, smooth and carefully shaped, clearly something that took time.
Zyrenia blinked.
"...What is this?"
Jessica shrugged.
"You gave me a candle, right?" she said. "I guess it's only fair I give you something back."
Zyrenia turned it over in her hands.
And stopped breathing.
It was a wax statue.
Of Lilith Vaelora.
Her breath hitched.
She looked at Jessica, heart pounding.
Jessica just looked at her calmly.
"...Did you make this?"
Jessica tilted her head slightly.
"Yeah."
Zyrenia gripped it tightly.
Jessica had claimed not to know Lilith.
Had said she had only guessed details.
Had given every impression that she barely understood anything about demon history.
And yet—
She had carved a perfect image of the Messiah of Demonkind.
Not the Lilith from demon propaganda.
Not the war-hardened general in murals.
Not the furious warlord in human-written battle records.
This was a statue of Lilith before the war.
A quiet-faced woman, regal, poised, yet brimming with sorrow.
Jessica had carved her as she had once been—before wrath became her identity.
Zyrenia felt her entire body lock up.
Jessica had no reason to know that side of Lilith.
Even demons barely spoke about it.
The Lilith in front of her now wasn't the war hero.
It was the princess.
The one who was betrayed.
The one who lost her brother.
The one who shattered under the weight of her grief.
The one who was erased from history.
Zyrenia's hands tightened around the candle.
"...I have to go."
She turned so fast she nearly knocked over one of Jessica's other candles.
Jessica blinked as she rushed out.
"...Weird kid."
Jessica shrugged and went back to fixing her desk.
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Zyrenia moved through the academy halls as fast as she could.
She didn't run.
But she walked like someone being chased by their own thoughts.
Her heart was pounding.
Jessica Moran was not normal.
She had spoken about Lilith's rage like she had witnessed it.
She had defended aura like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She had looked at her and instantly known her magic type.
And now—
Now, she had given her a carving of Lilith.
Not the warrior.
Not the legend.
Not the wrath-filled general.
The princess.
Zyrenia clutched the wax figure tighter.
How?
How did she know?
How did she carve this?
How did she understand the one thing even demons barely acknowledged?
She needed to talk to her father. Now.
She turned a corner, her sharp pace catching the attention of the last person she wanted to run into.
"Zyrenia?"
Zyrenia internally screamed.
Sevrin, her older brother, stood in the hallway with his attendants.
He raised an eyebrow at her rushed expression.
"...Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Zyrenia gritted her teeth.
"I have to talk to Daddy."
Sevrin tilted his head slightly, amused.
"You're not even going to pretend to greet me first?"
"I don't have time," Zyrenia huffed.
Sevrin's attendants looked at each other in amusement.
"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" one of them said. "Why don't we—"
"No." Zyrenia dodged around them.
"Are you feeling alright?" Sevrin asked. "You're acting strangely."
Zyrenia shot him a flat look.
"You don't know the half of it."
Sevrin's amusement deepened.
But Zyrenia wasn't in the mood to humor him.
She gripped the candle tightly in her hands and stormed past them.
She needed to see her father.
Immediately.