Swapping Destiny with My Evil Sister

Corisande's POV

As my younger sister drove her crystal blade into my chest, she screeched in mad laughter: "Why did you get to achieve fame and glory just because you chose Wisdom? If I could start over, I’d never choose Beauty!"

A blinding white light exploded before my eyes. We were both reborn, back in the Fate-Chamber.

This time, she shoved me aside and snatched the "Pact of Wisdom," tossing the "Pact of Charm"—the very power she so utterly despised—to me. She couldn't wait to see me turn into a useless, superficial airhead.

Inside the top-tier magic academy, armed with the enhanced memory and comprehension granted by her contract, she reveled in the spotlight and showered me with ruthless mockery.

What she didn't know was that the Pact of Wisdom never bestowed unearned miracles. Without discipline, the gifted talent would ultimately devour her. And the Pact of Charm she so thoroughly reviled was never meant for sycophancy—as long as I stayed clear-headed and true to myself, that power would become my impenetrable spiritual fortress.

In this life, I am still your worst nightmare.

—

As a searing, bone-chilling pain tore through my chest, I caught sight of Oriana Thalyn’s face, twisted with sheer envy.

In the damp, shadows of the Rune-Vault Chamber, she clutched a bloody crystal dagger, screeching at me hysterically: "It’s not fair! Corisande, why did you get to become a high archmage in our past life just because you chose the Pact of Wisdom? Why did Jareth Corvyn pursue you like a precious treasure? While I picked the Pact of Charm, only to end up as a plaything for aristocrats, left with nothing!"

I spat out a mouthful of blood and stared into my twin sister's bloodshot eyes.

She never understood. The Pact of Charm was indeed a trap, but the Pact of Wisdom was by no means a free ticket to the top.

"If I could start over... I would never choose beauty!" She slammed the blade down one last time.

A blinding flash of white light exploded around us.

When I opened my eyes again, the deep, ethereal chiming of a bell echoed in my ears.

We were back in the Fate-Chamber—the awakening ceremony hall for sixteen-year-olds in Brindleport.

The Master of the Fate-Chamber floated in midair, holding two glowing orbs of light in his hands. "Twins of the Thalyn family, choose your contracts. On the left is Wisdom; on the right is Charm."

"I choose Wisdom!"

Before Thelonius, the Master of the Fate-Chamber, could even finish his sentence, Oriana shoved me violently aside and lunged toward the blue orb of wisdom on the left.

Thelonius looked down, his icy gaze falling upon her. "Oriana Thalyn, are you certain? The Pact of Wisdom is extremely demanding. If you fail the core evaluation, all boosts will be permanently revoked."

"I'm certain! Stop talking and give it to me!" Oriana gasped in madness, clutching the blue light tightly to her chest. "Intellect is everything! With it, fame, status, and Jareth's love will all be mine!"

Thelonius didn't press further. He turned to me: "Corisande Thalyn, then you may only bind with the Pact of Charm."

I straightened my clothes, which she had crumpled, and calmly extended my hand: "I accept."

The pink orb flew into my chest. The Master of the Fate-Chamber offered us a meaningful look before vanishing into thin air.

"Hahaha! Corisande, you lost!"

The moment we stepped out of the Fate-Chamber, Oriana burst into a piercing laugh, her eyes gleeful with petty triumph. "I'm taking back all the glory you stole from me in our past life! Now go ahead and use that pretty, empty face of yours to play doll for the elites!"

I looked at her coldly, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "Congratulations, Oriana. I hope you stay this happy."

Did she really think grabbing that orb meant stealing my life? How laughable.

The Pact of Wisdom merely provided initial boosts to memory and comprehension. True magical calculations and rune derivations required thousands of lonely days and nights of deep meditation. There were no unearned miracles in this world.

The next day, at Oakhaven Arcane Academy.

In the Advanced Runes class, the instructor wrote fifty lines of ancient runic formulas on the blackboard.

"Who can recite and derive this formula within three minutes?"

"I can!" Oriana stood up proudly.

With the memory boost from the Pact of Wisdom, she recited the entire text word for word and completed the first phase of the derivation right on the spot.

The entire class gasped in awe.

Basking in the adoration, Oriana walked over to my desk with a smile, deliberately raising her voice: "Everyone, please stop praising me. My sister Corisande worked really hard too. She was studying in the library until three in the morning last night, though... she couldn't even memorize the first line. I guess talent really can't be forced."

The surrounding students immediately cast contemptuous looks my way.

"So Corisande is an idiot."

"Hard work means nothing without talent."

"Look at her face—aside from being pretty, she’s utterly useless."

Hearing their whispers, Oriana sneered in utter disdain as she brushed past me.

"Did you hear that, Corisande?" She leaned in, mocking me in a whisper only the two of us could hear. "In a place like this, beauty alone is nothing. So stay a useless flower vase and watch me climb to the peak!"

I watched her walk away, then looked down at the test paper that had just been handed back to me.

It was marked with a high score.

I didn't argue, nor did I show off my grade.

I just watched Oriana's arrogant antics with cold detachment.

She thought that by stealing the "Pact of Wisdom," she could replicate my past life. But she failed to understand the underlying logic of both systems.

In my past life, the "Pact of Wisdom" gave me nothing more than a pair of eyes that could see further. To enter the High Arcane Research Institute and decipher those obscure ancient runes, I chewed through tens of thousands of dry, tedious tomes in the library, enduring endless, unrewarded loneliness and toil.

Talent was merely an admission ticket. What truly carried someone to the top of the field was never a moment of brilliance, but relentless discipline, sweat, and unyielding perseverance.

Oriana was shallow and vain at heart; what she hated most was tedious meditation and practical hard labor. She believed that with the Pact of Wisdom, she could sit back and reap rewards without lifting a finger.

Oriana, you're celebrating way too early.