A year passed far faster than Minato would have liked.
Not because time itself had accelerated, but because she was trapped inside a body that refused to keep up with her mind. Each day felt like an endless repetition of humiliation—being carried around like an object, being spoken to in that soft, patronizing voice adults reserved for animals and infants, being dressed in absurd royal clothing with far too many ribbons, and constantly being watched as if she were something fragile that might shatter if the wind blew too hard.
It wasn't the servants that angered her most.
The worst part was the fact that she could do almost nothing about any of it.
Her original demonic power was still gone. Completely drained ever since the assassination attempt. Even now, she could only sense the faintest trace of darkness within herself, like a dying ember buried beneath ash. It refused to go out entirely, but it was so weak that it might as well have been mocking her.
It was infuriating.
At one year old, Minato was no longer a helpless newborn. She could walk on her own now—though she despised how unsteady her steps still felt. Her legs were short, her balance imperfect, and every movement felt clumsy compared to the speed she once possessed. She could speak a few words too, though hearing people squeal about how "cute" she sounded made her want to bite their throats out.
Still, she had learned the essentials. She could feed herself, could glare with full intent.
And she could speak just enough to cause problems.
"No."
"Mama."
And her personal favorite…
"Die."
The servants had initially laughed the first time she said it, thinking it was nothing more than a childish mistake. They stopped laughing after the fifth time.
Minato spent most of her time being coddled by her mother. Akemi rarely let her out of her sight anymore, especially after the attack. She carried Minato with her even when she didn't need to, and Minato, much to her own annoyance, found herself tolerating it more than she should have.
Akemi's warmth was… difficult to hate.
And it wasn't just her mother.
Her older sister, Aoi, visited often. The Crown Princess always entered Minato's room with the same soft smile, carrying gifts or books, treating her little sister like a treasure rather than a burden. She would sit beside Minato's crib and read aloud for hours, her voice calm and melodic, like the kind of sound that could lull a battlefield to sleep.
Minato had no interest in fairy tales or heroic legends. Those stories were always filled with exaggerated lies and dramatic nonsense, written to glorify people who didn't deserve it.
But Aoi also brought something else. Books on history, magic theory and on mana circulation and spell formation.
Those, were the ones Minato approved of.
One day, Aoi entered the royal library and nearly dropped the book in her hands when she saw something small moving between the shelves. For a moment she thought it was a cat, until she realized the creature climbing up the wooden shelf was far more troublesome.
The one-year-old princess had somehow escaped her attendants, wandered into the library, and was now climbing like a determined little spider, reaching upward with tiny hands toward a book resting far above her head.
Aoi had immediately rushed forward. "Mina!" she cried, horrified. "What are you doing!?"
Minato ignored her and simply continued climbing.
The book she wanted was titled Advanced Mana Control and Internal Circulation, a text meant for grown scholars or those who were not babies.
Aoi stared at the scene in disbelief, torn between panic and confusion. No normal child would ever reach for something like that. No normal child would even know what mana control was.
Before Minato could grab the book, Aoi lifted her down carefully, holding her close as though she feared Minato might disappear if she let go.
"You really scared me," Aoi scolded gently, her voice trembling despite her attempt to remain calm. "If you wanted to read, you should've just asked me to read to you."
Minato stared blankly up at her, expression perfectly dead.
The only reason she hadn't asked was because her mouth still refused to form proper sentences.
And being trapped in a baby's body was a torture she was beginning to hate more than death itself.
Aoi sighed and brushed Minato's hair away from her face.
"It's nice that you have an interest in books," she said warmly. "Like I do."
Minato wanted to respond properly.
She wanted to tell Aoi to stop speaking so casually. To stop wasting time and to quit treating her like a child.
She wanted to yell out and say: "Just read the damn book, woman! I need to get ahead. I need to become strong enough to crush that Hero and reclaim my throne."
Instead, what came out of her mouth was baby gibberish.
Aoi blinked for a few seconds and then smiled like she'd just heard something adorable. "Oh? Is that so? You're very passionate, Mina."
Minato's eye twitched.
The next day, Aoi personally carried her into the library and sat with her at a table, reading the mana control book aloud, line by line, carefully explaining each concept as if she were tutoring a prodigy rather than entertaining a toddler.
Minato listened with full focus, memorizing every word. It wasn't a lot but it was progress.
However, one thing Minato still despised more than anything else was her father's habit of treating her like she was a toy he could simply take whenever he pleased.
The Emperor would enter her room without warning, scoop her up from her crib, and carry her away like it was his right.
Which, unfortunately… It technically was.
One time, he even disturbed her sleep. Minato had been enjoying the rare peace of unconsciousness when she was suddenly lifted into the air. Her eyes snapped open, immediately filled with rage, only to see the Emperor's calm face looking down at her as if nothing was wrong.
"Come," he said simply. "You will accompany me."
Minato stared at him with murderous hatred.
The Emperor of course ignored it and carried her straight into the throne room.
The room was enormous, filled with towering pillars and stained-glass windows depicting dragons and imperial victories. A dozen advisors stood in rows, dressed in fancy clothing, speaking in low, serious voices. They bowed as the Emperor entered, their eyes immediately drifting toward the child in his arms.
And Minato… Minato was forced to sit there and listen.
She had forgotten how unbearably dull politics were. She remembered now why she hated it so much.
The way they spoke made Minato sick. She could practically smell their ambition. They didn't care about the empire. They cared about themselves.
If she had been in her old body…
She would have slaughtered them all without hesitation.
Instead, she sat there in the Emperor's arms like an ornament, forced to endure their droning voices.
Still, even in her irritation, Minato listened.
Because she was not foolish enough to waste information.
And she learned something useful.
Among human kingdoms—especially holy empires like Tenryuu—children underwent a special ceremony at the age of five. A ritual performed by priests and mages, meant to reveal the magic attribute a child was born with.
It was a celebrated event. A foreign one in her eyes.
Five years old.
That meant she had four more years trapped in this humiliating body… Four more years of weakness. Four more years of pretending.
But after that… Her magic would awaken officially.
And once that happened… No one would be able to stop her from beginning her climb back to power.