[ Reputation System v0.1 ]
User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim
Reputation Level: 61 (7,834 / 9,400 EXP)
Current Reputation Points: 44,205
Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess
{ View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points }
With a flick of her finger, Ravenna navigated to the spending menu.
[ Spend Reputation Points ]
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Access to the Internet: 100 Points per Hour
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Access to Magic Spell Library: 100 Points per Hour
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Geographical Scans: 5 Points per 1 Kilometer
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Nullify Minor Poison Damage on Self: 250 Points
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Nullify Minor Poison Damage on Others: 350 Points per Entity
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Minor Heal: 1,000 Points per Entity
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Major Heal: (Locked)
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Lie Detector: (Locked)
She tapped on [Access to Magic Spell Library], confirming the deduction of 100 points.
A wealth of knowledge instantly unfurled before her, a vast and infinite archive of magic spells—some common, some ancient, and others entirely undiscovered.
Ravenna’s eyes gleamed as she scrolled through the catalog.
"If the system holds every spell in existence, even those yet to be found by scholars, then I need to find something both efficient and practical."
She needed spells that could be cast quickly with minimal components—preferably ingredients that were easy to procure within the capital. The city was abundant with flower shops and apothecaries; finding different flowers or equipment wouldn’t be an issue.
Her fingers danced over the floating texts, eyes scanning for anything that would give her an edge during the impending attack.
"Time is limited. I need something fast, subtle, and devastating."
Her mind sharpened as she made her selections.
Audience Room, Marie’s Chambers, West Wing, Imperial Palace
Sunlight poured in through the ornate stained-glass windows, casting warm hues of crimson and gold across the polished marble floor. The air was filled with the delicate aroma of freshly brewed tea, an elegant floral blend meant to soothe and relax—yet Marie felt anything but at ease.
She sat across from Princess Gracie, her posture composed yet wary, hands delicately wrapped around the fine porcelain teacup.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Your Highness," Marie said with a small, respectful nod. "I had to change after combat training. I didn’t expect you to seek me out for tea."
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Gracie gave her a pleasant smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I was simply interested in forming a closer bond with Aunt Ravenna’s disciple. After all, she wouldn’t have chosen you unless you were someone extraordinary."
Marie’s grip on her teacup tightened slightly. So that’s her angle. She’s fishing for information.
Still, she kept her face neutral.
"I wouldn’t say that, Your Highness. I am merely a student at the Herptian Church."
It was the safest answer. Revealing her past as a former slave was out of the question, and technically, it wasn’t a lie. She was indeed a student under High Priest James, and as per Ravenna’s plan, she was meant to rise through the church ranks in due time. This answer provided nothing of real value while remaining perfectly believable.
Gracie sipped her tea, her expression unreadable, before setting the cup down with a soft clink. "Oh, don’t be so modest."
Then, her eyes lit up with something different—an excitement that felt out of place given their conversation thus far.
"You practice long-distance weaponry, correct? You mentioned that during breakfast."
Marie nodded, slightly cautious. "Yes, Your Highness. I did."
For a moment, Gracie hesitated, as if battling some internal struggle. Then, her carefully maintained facade cracked. The mature elegance she had been portraying slipped away, replaced by something entirely unexpected—girlish excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment.
Her cheeks flushed slightly as she leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"So, do you think you can beat Benric up?"
Marie blinked, completely caught off guard.
"Huh?"
Gracie’s blush deepened, and she hurriedly tried to compose herself, clearing her throat.
"I—I mean, Lady Marie, do you think you could defeat Benric in a spar?" She sat up straighter, trying to regain her royal poise, but the unfiltered eagerness in her voice betrayed her true emotions.
Then, with a slightly dramatic flair, she declared, "Like, beat him up good. Knock his ego down a few pegs."
Marie stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.
This was… not at all what she had expected.
A minute ago, she was preparing for some kind of social maneuvering, possibly even subtle humiliation or an attempt to pry deeper into her background. Instead, the princess was sitting there, blushing and flustered, practically begging her to humiliate her brother in combat.
Marie wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or deeply confused.
Audience Room, Ravenna’s Chambers, West Wing, Imperial Palace
As the sun dipped below the horizon, its fading golden light bathed the palace in hues of crimson and violet. Long shadows stretched across the corridors of the West Wing, where a lone figure walked with measured steps, his mind burdened with suspicion.
Eugene had just arrived at the entrance to Ravenna’s private chambers, his brows furrowed as he contemplated the summons.
"Why would she call for me?"
It made no sense. If Ravenna sought to make a political move, she would have requested an audience with her brother, not him. A private meeting with a mere knight captain—however high his standing—was an odd choice.
"Is she trying to negotiate something? Or has she figured out something she wasn’t supposed to?"
The thought sent a ripple of unease through him.
He had spent the last two years carefully orchestrating events from the shadows, nudging Prince William’s position forward while ensuring Ravenna remained an outcast. The tides of succession were delicate, and if Ravenna had suddenly uncovered something, it could unravel everything he had built.
As he neared the audience room, his heartbeat quickened.
"Could she have discovered that I’m the true mastermind behind William’s rise? Others have begun to suspect it… but would she dare confront me so openly?"
He exhaled sharply. No, that’s unlikely. Ravenna was cunning, but she wouldn’t just directly confront him though it will make her life easier to just kill him .
Yet the paranoia remained.
Another thought slithered into his mind, one far more dangerous than the last.
"Did she figure out that I know the future?"
The mere idea sent a cold chill down his spine. But if she had somehow uncovered even a hint of the truth…
"Worse still… did she realize that I was the one who ensured she was blamed for her mother’s death?"
The memory of that carefully constructed web of deceit flickered in his mind. It had been a necessary move, cruel but essential. Ravenna had to be branded as a disgrace, an outcast unworthy of the throne. The empire could not afford to fall into the hands of the one who had ruined it before.
No matter what, he had to ensure she never re-entered the succession race.
Eugene clenched his fists, steadying himself as he approached the doors.
"I need to be careful. If she truly knows something, I must silence her ambitions before they take root."
The guards standing by the entrance gave him a brief glance before one of them stepped forward.
“Ser Eugene of the White Falcons,” he announced.
A brief silence followed. Then, with a soft creak, the grand double doors swung open.
Inside, Ravenna sat on an elegant velvet sofa, her posture relaxed but her sharp golden eyes already locked onto him as if she had been waiting for this moment.
A knowing smirk played on her lips.
Eugene exhaled slowly.
"Let’s see what game you’re playing, Ravenna."