Chapter 25 ~ A Privilege Only for Divine Princesses
“Ah… seriously.”
Looking at the full-length mirror, I sighed softly as I tucked a strand of shimmering golden hair behind my ear. Reflected back at me was a Gold Elf wearing a golden-blue butterfly hairpin.
Had I, once again, unconsciously put the hair ornament on in my sleep?
It wouldn’t be the first time. Just a few days ago, the same thing happened. I even vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night, half-aware, and placing the [Golden Chalice Butterfly Ornament] onto my hair from the bedside table.
But the memory was faint—like a dream experienced in that liminal state between sleep and wakefulness.
That’s how I ended up in this situation: a sleepy Elf girl rubbing her tear-moistened eyes in the morning light, barefoot, stepping off the bed with those delicate, snow-white feet. Her arched soles bathed in dawn’s glow gleamed like pearl-pink gems.
Dragging my unkempt over-the-knee hair behind me, I shuffled toward the mirror, yawning lazily all the while.
The first time this happened, I nearly had a heart attack. Having just woken up, my groggy brain didn’t recognize the girl who had suddenly "appeared" in my room.
The second time, I quickly realized the truth after a moment of stunned confusion.
I’d considered the cause and blamed it on the subconscious of this body I now inhabited.
I had long since realized that this Elf body retained a certain degree of physical memory—habits ingrained so deeply they could influence my behavior, ways of speaking, even my thought patterns, often without me noticing.
This caused subtle differences. Even though I was still the same person mentally, my methods for handling things, my perspective, and my habits had all begun to subtly shift.
Speaking of which, had I… grown again over the past few days?
I clasped my hands behind my back, stood slightly on tiptoe, and scrutinized my reflection in the mirror for a long while before finally nodding with solemn affirmation.
Yes, I’d definitely grown a little taller.
As for this body’s incredible growth rate, I had a theory.
I raised my pale, pearl-smooth finger—so neat it looked sculpted—and poked the “scar” on my face.
This body constantly absorbed energy from the weapon named [Sacred Oblivion], drawing power every second of every day to push toward Divine Awakening. With such a feedback loop, of course it was growing rapidly.
It had only been a few days, yet I already felt taller.
But what made the change obvious wasn’t the height—it was the ‘towering structure’ that had suddenly… expanded significantly.
Truly, such was the power of being an Elf.
I cupped my hands, adjusted my posture a little, and walked a few steps in front of the mirror.
Did this count as… helping my ‘granny’ walk?
Aghh, what am I doing?
I dropped my hands and gave myself a light flick to the forehead.
Still, this body-swap feature was pretty user-friendly. It knew I wouldn’t have clothes prepared for a new body, so it came with a default outfit. While it wasn’t stylish and the material was cheap, at least it was recognizably girls’ clothing. If I’d had to wear some ill-fitting men’s outfit and walk outside, every single passerby would’ve turned their head for sure.
Too weird.
This sleeveless linen top paired with shorts and wrap sandals was at least within the realm of normal. A bit shabby-looking, sure, but wearable.
As a D-rank Divine Princess who hadn’t officially enrolled, I didn’t have a school uniform. The academy hadn’t issued one.
But that was fine. I still wasn’t quite comfortable with skirts—those floaty, light things. My mindset and orientation were still solidly male. If the day came when I wasn’t bothered by wearing one, then I’d be worried.
Today wasn’t like the others. I needed to go out—as Teresa. Fully dressed and in character.
Even though unconfirmed Divine Princesses were considered students of Coleman Academy, there was no real obligation for them to attend classes.
Same went for Divine Children.
Before being officially recognized, attending classes at Coleman was optional. You had the right to go, but no one would force you.
I figured this system existed because, in the academy’s eyes, freshmen were only provisional students. Unless they could prove their worth and secure their spot, they weren’t seen as full members—so the academy wouldn’t interfere too much with their behavior.
It was a roundabout way of fostering student self-discipline. If someone couldn’t even muster the drive to attend class, then getting eliminated and sent packing was just a matter of time.
On the flip side, if a student was so outstanding they could shine without guidance, skipping classes became their rightful privilege.
So yes, Coleman had a rather laissez-faire attitude toward new students—free-range education, so to speak.
Still, considering it had already been nearly a week since enrollment and I hadn’t shown up to class even once, I figured it was a little much.
And so, after some serious contemplation, I made a decision that would’ve shocked my ancestors:
Today, I would go to class—as Teresa—and check out what the other new Divine Princesses looked like.
I brought my student card and put on the feathered headphones to conceal my Elf ears. Then, as usual, I made my way to the cafeteria.
But just as I was about to head for the free bread section out of habit, I stopped mid-step.
Coleman offered free meals for Divine Children, mages, and alchemists—only a simple bread stand in the morning and corn chowder at night. But Divine Princesses? Entirely different treatment.
Being the absolute core of any team, Divine Princesses had a dedicated meal station with balanced meat and vegetables—and even dessert.
Compared to the pitiful rations of other classes, it made one painfully aware of the difference between daddy-class and grandson-class roles.
If you ranked all professions in terms of privilege, Divine Princesses were undisputedly top-tier daddies—the main force of any team, supported by all. Divine Children were upper-mid-tier—basically ‘mom-class’—team captains and tacticians.
Mages? They were the sons. You didn’t expect much combat power, just buff the weapons of frontline fighters.
As for alchemists? Huh? Does a team even need you? Healing and sustain? That’s what priest-class Divine Princesses are for—fast, reliable. Damage output? Knight-class Divine Princesses descend like war gods; you’ll just slow them down. Even mages don’t expect much from you.
But all that aside—I’d had my eye on the Divine Princess cafeteria for ages, but never had the credentials. I could only drool as I watched them feast.
Now my chance has come.
Though the food was excellent, the Divine Princess dining area was practically empty. In fact, it was cold and deserted.
The reason was simple: those pampered sons and daughters of noble houses looked down on the “free” food and preferred to dine elsewhere.
I should’ve piled my plate high with meat and side dishes. But when I returned to my seat, I suddenly realized a surprising fact—
I’d subconsciously filled my tray with nothing but fruit and vegetables…