Tiara and Sienna had once been inseparable.
Although Sienna had been two years older, they had grown up together like two saplings planted side by side in the same garden.
Wherever Sienna ran, Tiara followed.
Whenever other children mocked or bullied her, Sienna would step forward like a protective older sister, shielding her with the reckless courage only children possess.
Those memories were among the brightest in her heart.
But childhood is a short season.
As they grew older, Tiara became more aware of their different positions.
Sienna was the heiress of House Vale.
She was a servant’s granddaughter.
She could no longer call her by name.
She could no longer tug her sleeve and drag her into childish games.
And slowly, Sienna drifted away.
She made new friends among the children of noble families.
She learned arrogance, indulgence, and all the glittering vices that surrounded the young aristocracy.
The cheerful girl who once protected her seemed to vanish.
As the years passed, Sienna became increasingly unruly, while Tiara blossomed into a graceful young woman with notable magical talent.
The distance between them widened like two roads diverging across a plain.
She disapproved of Sienna’s reckless behavior.
More than once, she wished she could shake the young heiress by the shoulders and ask where the kind-hearted girl she once knew had gone.
But Sienna listened to no one.
Not Harold.
Not Mirella.
Certainly not her.
And though she still treasured her childhood memories, those memories were dealt a heavy blow when Sienna once crossed a boundary that should never have been crossed.
Tiara had escaped unharmed, but the trust she had carried in her heart cracked like fine glass.
Then came the catastrophe that shattered everything.
House Vale fell from glory to ruin.
Servants fled.
Their ancestral home was taken.
The family was exiled.
Sienna was forced to drink the Water of Nothingness.
In the space of a few weeks, the world Tiara knew collapsed like a palace built on sand.
She had been little more than a girl, watching helplessly as her grandparents struggled to keep House Vale afloat like sailors bailing water from a ship already half-submerged.
Without Harold and Mirella, she did not know whether she would have found the strength to continue.
Then, in this land of death, Sienna awoke.
Except… she was no longer Sienna.
Or rather, she was and she was not.
The body was the same.
The voice was the same.
But the soul inside seemed transformed.
The frivolity was gone.
In its place stood someone calm, thoughtful, and determined.
First came the magical vegetables.
Then the plans for blue-eyed rabbits.
Then, the revelation that the cursed soil itself might be restored.
This new Sienna, carrying Sienna’s name and House Vale’s burden, had become someone Tiara could not understand and yet could not stop watching.
When Sienna smiled, it was no longer the careless grin of a spoiled noble, but the steady smile of a woman who could see a path through darkness.
When Sienna spoke, her words carried confidence that settled into people’s hearts like warm sunlight.
And without realizing it, Tiara felt her own heart stir with a strange and unfamiliar emotion.
When Sienna happened to glance in her direction, Tiara immediately lowered her eyes, her cheeks warming with guilt and confusion.
Mirella noticed none of this.
After speaking with Sienna, she headed into the kitchen to gather what she needed.
Tiara followed behind her, her face still flushed, but the short walk and the familiar rhythm of work gave her time to steady herself.
Before long, Mirella and Tiara organized the slaves and led them to the black fields outside the castle.
Harold was away, but the household moved with renewed purpose.
Hope had become a torch, and everyone seemed eager to carry it.
The slaves worked quickly.
Though they lacked education, measuring land was straightforward labor, and before long, they had marked off a full 5000 sq.
meters.
When the final marker was set, Mirella turned toward Sienna.
Her hands were clasped tightly.
Her breath came a little faster.
The expression on her face carried the tension of a woman standing at the threshold of a miracle, afraid to step forward and afraid not to.
If Sienna succeeded, the dead land would live.
If she failed, this would remain what the world had always called it.
A grave.
*
Sienna stood at the edge of the measured plot and stared at the dark soil stretching before her.
Until now, she had tested everything inside the Spatial Farm, where a single thought could move tools, sow seeds, and transform earth.
But this was different.
This was the real world.
And for the first time since waking in this new life, she felt genuine uncertainty tighten in her chest.
Would the Spatial Farm obey her outside its boundaries?
Would the space soil and spring water respond to her will?
Or had she built all her hopes upon an assumption as fragile as a spider’s web?
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Her mind raced.
Then, just as her thoughts began circling like trapped birds, a familiar voice sounded in her mind.
[Do you want to improve this land?]
[Yes/No]
At the same time, a translucent screen appeared before her eyes.
Two buttons floated in the air.
One read [Yes].
The other read [No].
For a heartbeat, Sienna simply stared.
Then joy surged through her so suddenly that she almost laughed aloud.
“It works.”
Without hesitation, she reached out to press [Yes].
Her finger passed straight through the button.
The screen remained unchanged.
Sienna blinked.
She tried again.
Her hand passed through.
Again.
And again.
Her movements became increasingly hurried as she poked, swiped, and jabbed at the floating buttons with growing frustration.
To Mirella, Tiara, Wood, Stone, and the assembled slaves, it looked as though their Young Miss had suddenly begun waving her arms at empty air, twisting and gesturing with intense concentration like a mystic engaged in an invisible battle.
For a moment, no one dared to breathe.
The only sounds were the distant wind sweeping over the dead fields and the soft rustle of Sienna, future mistress of House Vale, energetically flailing at something only she could see.
Everyone present, from the trembling slaves who stood clutching ropes and measuring stakes to Mirella herself, fixed their eyes on Sienna.
No one understood what she was doing.
From their perspective, the young mistress had suddenly frozen in place, staring at empty air as though she were reading words written by invisible spirits, and then, for reasons known only to herself, she began waving her hands in front of her face, poking and swiping at nothing.
Mirella’s heart, which only moments ago had risen like a bird taking flight, slowly began to sink.
Her fingers tightened around the hem of her sleeve.
The joy in her chest wavered.
In the past few days, she had witnessed astonishing changes in Sienna.
The once wayward heir of House Vale had awakened with a calm mind, sharp judgment, and an almost frightening ability to see ten steps ahead.
It was as if a blade that had once been left to rust had suddenly been drawn from its sheath, polished bright and keen.
But now…
Watching Sienna stab her fingers into the air with increasing urgency, Mirella could not help the uneasy thought that perhaps the pressure had simply become too great.
“A bow bent too far,” she thought, “may either launch an arrow to the heavens… or snap in the archer’s hand.”
Sienna, meanwhile, was dying of embarrassment.
In her previous life, this sort of action would have been absurdly simple.
She would have moved a mouse, clicked a button, and the system would have obediently carried out her command.
Now there was no mouse.
No keyboard.
No touchscreen.
Only her own finger and a translucent panel hovering before her eyes like a stubborn ghost.
She jabbed at the glowing [Yes] button once more.
Her finger passed straight through.
Nothing happened.
The panel remained exactly as it was.
Sienna’s lips twitched.
A faint flush crept up her neck.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could feel dozens of stares boring into her back.
To everyone else, she must look like a lunatic dancing with invisible spirits in the middle of a barren field.
“Wonderful,” she thought bitterly.
“The future head of House Vale, reduced to swatting at air like she’s chasing mosquitoes.”
She drew a breath, forced herself to calm down, and muttered inwardly, “Think, Sienna.
When a door will not open by force, try the key instead.”
Then she focused her thoughts and shouted in her mind.
“Yes!”
At once, the system responded.
[Please enter the modified area]