Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 77: Christina’s departure

Chapter 77: Christina’s departure

The wax seal sizzled as the flame from Cassandra’s candle kissed its surface, dripping red onto the thick parchment. The last of the letters was done. One by one, they’d be delivered to the Capital and to every Adventurers’ Guild across the Sturgon. A proclamation, plain and bold: the dungeon had awoken. Near her land. Near their forest.

She knew the consequences.

The moment she sent these, the floodgates would open. Explorers, mercenaries, scholars, knights, and worse—nobles—would descend like carrion birds. Her tranquil corner of the world would become a frenzy of ambition. And her careful, delicate relationship with him—with Shennong—would be under constant scrutiny.

There was also the problem with Baron Jamie, but she knew it was about time she made a decision about him. It wasn’t as if she could keep him in this house forever like a piece of living meat.

There would be no turning back.

As she pressed her seal into the final letter, a soft knock echoed from the door.

"Mother?" a gentle voice called before opening it. Christina stepped inside, hair unkempt from the garden, a slight glint of sadness in her eyes.

Cassandra paused mid-motion, the last curl of smoke rising from the wax. She smiled, though a shadow lingered behind her eyes.

"So," she said, "the holiday’s ending."

Christina nodded, walking over to the desk and glancing at the letters. "I might go back the day after tomorrow," she said. "I still need to pack."

Cassandra let out a soft sigh, hands resting on the desk. "It’ll be quiet without you."

"It’ll be boring without you," Christina replied with a teasing smile, but her tone quickly faltered. "Mother... I saw Father in his study."

Cassandra’s expression froze.

Christina’s gaze fell to the floor. "He looked... like a husk. Like he was only breathing because someone told him to."

The air grew heavier between them. Cassandra turned her eyes away. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "What should I have done, Christina? If he were in his right mind, he would have killed me. He would’ve tried to harm him."

Her eyes flicked up to meet her daughter’s. "What should I do with him now?"

Christina didn’t answer. She couldn’t. What could she possibly say to that? Should she ask her mother who finally got her freedom to sacrifice her freedom just because she wanted a father that didn’t even care about her because she was not acting like his doll that would obey his every command?

But the silence didn’t last.

A low, masculine voice echoed from the doorway behind her.

"Would you have preferred if I killed him instead?"

Christina spun around, her eyes wide. "You—!"

She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Why are you always here?"

Shennong leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, dark eyes gleaming with mischief and menace alike. "Of course I’m here. How could I not be, when my sweetheart is burning letters without even a kiss goodbye?"

He stepped forward, ignoring Christina’s glare, and leaned down to place a light kiss on Cassandra’s cheek. Cassandra turned her head slightly, not resisting, but not quite smiling either.

Christina rolled her eyes and looked away, arms crossed.

Shennong turned to Cassandra again, voice lower now. "You’re not going to talk to her about that letter?"

Cassandra tensed.

Christina glanced between them. "Letter? What letter, Mother?"

Slowly, Cassandra opened a drawer and pulled out a folded piece of parchment sealed with an insignia. She handed it to Christina wordlessly.

Christina took it and froze. She recognized the crest immediately—Count Neil Komasi, the father of Young Master Udo, one of the most prominent noble families, which Percival family is under.

As she read, the color drained from her face.

"This..." she whispered. "This says... I should be expelled?"

Cassandra nodded gravely. "Yes. For ’disrespecting your seniors’... and the princess."

Christina’s hands trembled. "I didn’t... I mean, I only stood up to them because—"

"I know what happened," Cassandra said quickly. "You told me everything. Unlike Jamie, I believe you. But that doesn’t mean I can just ignore this."

Christina looked up, voice cracking. "So... am I going to be expelled?"

Cassandra didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes drifted to Shennong.

He stepped forward, expression sharpening. "Of course not."

Christina blinked.

"You’re not going to be expelled," he said, voice resolute. "You’re going back to that academy, and you’re going to beat them all. Every single one of them. Beat them so bad they won’t dare speak the word ’expel’ ever again."

Christina stared at him, eyes wide.

"You think that’s funny?" she muttered. "That’s easy for you to say."

"I’m not joking," Shennong replied. "Go wild. Be the real Christina. Stop playing nice. Stop pretending to be less than you are. You’re strong. You’re not there to play house or sip tea in a politics class. You’re there to be a knight, aren’t you?"

Christina opened her mouth but no words came out.

Shennong leaned forward, lowering his voice. "So be one. Prove them wrong with your fists. With your blade. And let me and Cassandra handle the nobles. They want to play power games? Fine. Let them. But you? You fight."

Cassandra’s hand gently found Christina’s shoulder. "He’s right," she whispered. "You’ve always been strong, even when you didn’t realize it. You stood your ground when others didn’t. That letter isn’t a judgment. It’s a warning. And warnings only matter if you’re afraid."

Christina looked down at the letter again. The words stung. ’Inappropriate.’ ’Disrespectful.’ ’Unworthy.’

They didn’t just want her gone. They wanted her to quit.

Her hands clenched the parchment tightly. Then, she walked over to the fireplace and tossed it in.

Cassandra smiled softly. Shennong let out a low whistle. "Now that’s the spirit."

The flames licked the edges of the paper, curling it into ash.

"...I’ll go back," Christina said quietly. "And I’ll show them. I’ll show them all."

"That’s my girl," Shennong said with a grin. "If anyone tries to stop you—break their nose. We will take care of everything."

"Don’t call me that! I will not accept you," Christina snorted despite herself. "You’re incorrigible."

He winked. "And you’re magnificent."

***

The gates of the Sturgon Academy loomed before her—familiar yet distant. Christina took a deep breath, the early morning mist curling around her like wisps of memory. This time, she wasn’t walking in with shaking knees or hesitant steps.

This time, she was ready.

She adjusted the strap on her scabbard and placed a hand over the hilt of her new sword. It was sleek, well-balanced, and gleamed with a quiet menace—worlds apart from the chipped, hand-me-down blade that had once threatened to fall apart in her grasp. She sighed, half in relief, half in disbelief. So this is what a real sword feels like...

A sudden thought flashed across her mind—her mother’s face, streaked with tears, trying so hard not to cry when Christina had left.

"Fight for what you love," Cassandra had said, her voice cracking like dry leaves in autumn. "Don’t let anyone tell you who you are."

Christina smiled faintly, her chest tightening. I’ll make you proud, Mother...

And then—his face came to mind. That maddening, mysterious man who had dropped into her life like a storm cloaked in riddles. Shennong. The one who never quite made sense, and yet, somehow... she trusted him. As incomprehensible as he was, his belief in her had become a strange kind of compass.

"Hey, look who crawled back," came a voice like gravel scraping iron.

Christina’s head snapped up. A group of young men approached, adorned in the proud colors of noble houses. She recognized them immediately. Udo’s underlings. The same ones who had once blocked her way, insulted her lineage, and treated her like a pariah.

They stopped just short of her path, their leader chuckling darkly.

"Lady Christina of the baron household," he sneered, dragging out the title like it was filth. "You’ve got nerve, showing up here after making a fool of yourself in front of Princess Maria."

Another chimed in, "Our houses have instructed us to make sure you understand your place this time. The Knight Faculty isn’t a stage for you to pretend you’re one of us. Just go back to the Domestic Politics faculty place where you belong."

Christina didn’t flinch.

Not this time.

She studied their faces, recalling the fear that used to knot her stomach. The way her hands used to tremble. But now... she saw them clearly. They weren’t terrifying. They were boys playing power games under the shadow of their family names.

The fear hadn’t been of them.

It had been of losing the people she loved because of her own ambition.

But not anymore.

"I see," Christina said softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "So this is how you greet a lady at the gate now? By surrounding her like dogs circling a meal?"

One of them bristled. "You think this is funny?"

She tilted her head. "A little. Don’t you feel even a little embarrassed, ganging up on a ’young and frail woman’ like me?"

There was a flicker of confusion among them, just long enough for her to step forward.

Her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword.

"I have a suggestion," she said, voice cool as steel. "Instead of growling at the gates, why don’t we settle this properly? On the training grounds. As warriors."

The leader scoffed, "You want to duel us? All of us?"

Christina drew her sword with a clean shing, the morning light catching the blade like a flash of lightning.

"I want to duel anyone who thinks they can put me in a cage. If the hat fits right you may as well wear it."