Back then, she had turned to Abraxus with a lofty air, sticking her nose into the air and demanding to be accepted as a disciple. How dare he pick someone who couldn't even defeat her? How was Dyon worthy of a position she couldn't be accepted into?
Not only did she demand this, but she also demanded that her First Brother be expelled from Abraxus' disciples. How could someone so much weaker than her possibly have the right to be her senior? If it came down to being Abraxus' second disciple, she would rather not be a disciple at all.
She still remembered what happened that day clearly. It was so clear in her mind that it might as well be passing her by where she stood currently.
She still remembered the indifference on Dyon's face when he stood from his beating. That calm, callous cold that radiated from his gaze. It almost felt as though he had been watching someone else suffer the punishment he had rather than it being him.
