"I heard that you performed exceptionally well in your martial arts class and quite a few people was astonished."

In the vast and empty Ancient Potion Club classroom, Moen looked up in surprise at the senior sitting on the edge of the desk:

"Word spread so fast? Even you knew about it?"

"Moen, you're practically a celebrity. News about celebrities tends to spread far and wide. Besides, there's this..."

Anna handed him a newspaper.

"Hmm? What's this?"

Moen took the paper, his eyes casually scanning its contents.

Then, he froze.

"Apology statement?

The reports previously published by the news agency concerning Moen Campbell and Ariel Bugard were entirely baseless. We hereby sincerely apologize to both individuals and...”

The newspaper contained a lengthy apology filled with remorse for spreading false information about Moen and Ariel, along with promises to deeply reflect and make serious corrections. It concluded with an announcement: the news agency would suspend operations for a week for rectification.

"Apology... False reports..." Moen frowned in concern.

"Oh dear. Judging by your reaction, I bet you had no idea yet?"

"Know about what? I’ve been so busy studying lately. I haven’t had time to keep up with the campus newspapers or anything of the sort."

"No wonder. I was wondering how someone like you could be so level-headed, not even flipping out at Mintgoth for spreading all those rumors."

Anna handed him another stack of newspapers.

Moen took them and glanced through, his expression shifting to anger in mere moments as disbelief surged through him. His blood pressure skyrocketed.

"My ex-girlfriend? Abortion? Dating thirteen people at once? What the heck is this?!"

"Your spotlight-worthy scandal, of course. Aren’t you curious why your reputation among other students has always been so bad?" Anna rested her chin in her hands, laughing mischievously.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re clueless.”

“I thought..." Moen opened his mouth, but it was like he was a fish out of water, unable to produce a sound.

In the end, all he could do was offer a helpless laugh.

He had been too fixated on his own world, believing that if he worked hard enough, he would eventually change how others viewed him.

What he hadn’t realized was that indifference to external negativity wasn’t enough—malice from the outside world could be much scarier.

"However…”

Moen’s gaze fell upon the apology statement and closure notice printed in the paper, and a sense of warmth filled his heart.

The ability to resolve something like this, so quickly and effectively, belonged solely to Celicia.

"I never expected that, in the end, I would still need her help."

Moen couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, scratching his head. "Honestly, I don’t even know how to thank her properly."

"Thinking about another woman while talking to a lady is very rude, junior."

Suddenly, Anna playfully flicked Moen’s forehead with her slender finger.

"Time is precious—let's begin our first lesson, shall we, Moen?"

"Your command is my duty, Professor Anna!"

Moen immediately perked up, his energy levels surging.

No matter what, studying was the utmost priority. Figuring out how to thank Celicia could wait.

"First, let's start with a little test."

Anna perched atop the desk. Her perfectly arched back sculpted an exquisite silhouette, while her long and stunning legs crossed delicately. Under the sunlight streaming through the window, her black stockings gleamed faintly with a crystalline radiance.

She opened a textbook and spoke with genuine seriousness, as though she were a true educator:

"Hmm, we need to gauge your level first. But considering how impressive you are in martial arts, I imagine you won’t be too bad at this, right?"

"Heh heh..."

Moen’s eyes drifted evasively.

"Maybe... Possibly... I could be a bit worse at this than expected."

"It's okay to be a bit worse than that. I'm confident in my teaching abilities."

Anna smiled lightly, her lips curving beautifully. "Come now, don't be nervous. Just answer a few questions for me."

...

A few minutes later.

Even Anna couldn’t suppress the gravity of her expression.

She laid her textbook aside and looked at Moen, who was sitting awkwardly. Her eyebrows were raised high, her tone outlined with a touch of disbelief.

"Junior, are you telling me you don’t know *anything* about the basics of Magical Theory?"

"That... That's not truth!"

Moen's cheeks flushed red as he stiffened his posture to feign courage, weakly retorting:

"Who said I know nothing? At least I know the biography of Grandmaster Mage MelaDormir!"

"But that's irrelevant to what we’re testing."

Moen averted his gaze, visibly deflated.

“Oh no, is this what it feels like to be deceived by a scumbag boyfriend?"

Anna wiped her finger near her eye, pretending to weep pitifully, her demeanor pitiful enough to melt hearts.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day I’d be cheated so badly. Boo-hoo... What should I do now? Guess I’ll never be able to find someone to marry…"

"I’ll give you compensation! Senior Anna, please, don’t…”

“Really?”

She leaned closer, tilting her head, a teasing smile on her lips like a mischievous devil:

“What kind of compensation would you offer, hmm?”

"I'll... I'll..."

The alluring fragrance wafting from her filled his nose. At such close proximity, even the captivating tear mole at the corner of her eye seemed hypnotically irresistible.

“A million dollars?” Moen asked tentatively.

“Oh? Is that what you think of me—just a woman who loves money?” Anna feigned a heartbroken expression.

“No, no, no! I just—”

“Actually, I *do* love money.” Anna's sly grin returned.

“...”

“Haha… You should see your face, Moen.”

Anna chuckled gleefully, clearly savoring his reactions.

“Senior Anna is way too mean…” Moen groaned, almost in tears.

What caliber of enchantress was this? Completely irresistible.

"Alright, let’s end the jokes here."

Anna wiped away the tears she’d laughed out, settling herself back onto the desk with a hint of seriousness returning to her tone.

"Let’s start the official lesson now, Moen."

"Yes, Professor Anna!"

Moen straightened and responded enthusiastically, like a model student.

...

Soft sunlight. Gentle breeze.

It seemed like time slowed in the tranquil afternoon as Moen’s "Anna’s Little Lesson" officially began.

It had to be said—Anna truly excelled at teaching, just as she claimed.

The material was laid out step by step, building gradually in complexity. She used vivid analogies, occasionally injecting humor, transforming dry textbook content into something engaging and thrilling. Even someone with no magical knowledge, like Moen, could follow her pace, gradually delving into the fascinating mysteries of magic.

And yet, amidst her scholarly demeanor, there would occasionally emerge fleeting traces of charm—so seductive they could easily ensnare one's mind without warning.

...

...

"By the way, would you like to try it, Moen?"

After their lessons concluded in the late afternoon, just as Moen was packing up to leave, Anna made an unexpected suggestion.

"Try what?" Moen blinked, momentarily baffled.

"The activities of the Ancient Potion Society, of course."

Anna shot him a flirtatiously reproachful look, laden with allure.

“Have you forgotten already? I asked you about joining before. I think you should at least have a taste of it before deciding."

“That makes sense.”

Moen nodded thoughtfully, smiling: "Then I may bother you, Senior."

"It's no trouble at all."

Anna tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, giving him a gentle smile.

"If you end up loving the activities of our society, well, that’d be even better."

"I'll do my best to love it."

“Is that a promise? That’s wonderful to hear.”

Anna’s eyes curved prettily, her expression amicable though laced with an odd undertone Moen failed to catch.

...

“The Ancient Potion Society is dedicated to studying ancient texts and restoring magical potions that were lost to time.”

Anna led him deeper into the society’s room. It was a spacious area, with their initial learning space partitioned off clearly. Heading inside, Moen encountered rows of shelves.

The shelves were piled high with undeniably ancient books. On flipping open one casually, Moen noted their worn-out covers, blurred scripts, and often incomplete content.

"They attempt to recreate potions...using just these books?"

Moen appeared skeptical.

"Can it really work?"

“The success rate is incredibly low. What’s more, each potion we recreate requires immense time and effort—and often the results are far from satisfactory.”

Anna reached out to touch the aged books, her affectionate hand movement as tender as if she were caressing a child.

“That’s precisely why I’m the only member left in this society. So much effort and so little reward—a disheartening imbalance that drives newcomers to leave not long after joining.”

“Honestly, if someone genuinely wanted to study magical potions, they’d simply join the official Potion Club. Why choose this difficult, thankless path instead?”

“It’s also why I urged you to think twice before deciding whether to join. I wouldn't want you to disappear after just a few days—it would really upset me.”

In that moment, Anna stood in a shadowed corner, her stunning profile looking unexpectedly lonely.

The sight made Moen’s chest tighten.

His hand brushed the idle instruments gathering dust in the corner—a reminder of their rarely used state. And yet, they were meticulously cleaned, without a speck of dirt on them.

She must truly love this club.

“Well then, what can I do to help?"

Moen asked, sounding genuinely invested.

“Honestly, I don’t even understand potions or ancient script. It feels like I wouldn’t be much help to you, Senior.”

“True, you are quite useless as juniors go.” Anna nodded with a straight face.

“…Could you maybe avoid being so brutally honest? It stings!” Moen protested indignantly.

“Haha! Despite being useless, even you can be helpful to me.”

Anna winked mischievously.

“You see, this club doesn't focus solely on potion restoration.”

“Hmm? How’s that?” Moen brightened momentarily.

After receiving Anna’s care and help, he wanted nothing more than to prove his determination and repay the kindness she’d shown.

No matter how challenging—if the senior asked for it, he’d be ready to—

“This.”

Anna abruptly placed a bottle of pale pink potion before him.

“Drink this, Moen.”

“Huh? Drink it?”

Moen’s burgeoning smile froze.

He lowered his gaze to the potion—a shade that only brought dreadful flashbacks—and hesitated. Carefully, he asked:

“Forgive me for prying, but what exactly does this potion do?”

"Don’t know."

"Don’t know?!"

Moen gasped, his eyes widening so much he nearly jumped upright then and there.

“I didn’t know senior would still ask me to drink this. Planning to murder your junior?”

“That’s because this is another activity of our club—potion testing.”

Anna tilted her head slightly, lightly tapping the glass container holding the potion. The pale red liquid inside rippled along with her movement. Her tone remained as gentle and composed as ever, as if she had long anticipated Moen’s reaction.

“After all, this is a potion recreated from ancient texts. Due to missing pages, the specific effects of the potion are vague and unclear. At times like this, we need to determine the effects accurately through testing.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

Moen was utterly taken aback by Anna-senpai's selfless dedication to science. “What if it’s poison?”

“How could that be?”

Anna rolled her eyes and flicked Moen lightly on the forehead with her finger.

“Do you not trust my skills in potion-making? Although the exact effects aren’t clear, I can make rough deductions based on the materials and the brewing method. Testing just helps us get precise data, that’s all.”

“I see.”

Moen scratched his head, blushing at his ignorance.

“So… what’s the approximate effect of this potion?”

“This is likely a transformation-type potion.”

“Transformation-type?”

“Yes, that’s right. It temporarily turns the drinker into something else. A cat, a dog, perhaps even some object. Of course, the transformation is only superficial; your essence remains unchanged.”

Propping her chin in her hand, Anna swirled the potion in its container. “In fact, I already drank this potion a while ago.”

“You drank it?”

“Mm-hmm. But when I drank it, it had no effect on me. So I suspect that this potion might have different effects on individuals.”

“And that's why you’re asking me to test it?”

“Exactly.”

Anna’s deep, entrancing gaze locked onto Moen as she chuckled softly, “No matter what, I wouldn’t let my junior drink a harmful potion.”

“Haha, sorry.”

“So, junior, are you willing to drink it?”

“This…”

Moen was still hesitant.

Although his senior had assured him that the potion was harmless, Moen was acutely aware of his own poor luck.

What if the potion’s real effect turned him into something absurd like a pig? Wouldn’t that completely ruin the image he had worked so hard to maintain?

“Ah, speaking of which, I’d kind of like it if you turned into a cute little animal or something. That way, I could hold you in my arms and give you a good squeeze.” Anna gestured animatedly with her hands near her voluminous chest, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Turn into a little animal?

Held in her arms?

Squeezed?

“I’ll drink it!”

Slapping the table firmly, Moen declared with resolute righteousness, “As a man who stands beneath the heavens, how could I shrink from such an insignificant unknown? Senior has been so gracious to me; I must repay her generosity to the best of my ability!”

And it totally wasn’t because I secretly wanted to be held and squeezed by his senior. Definitely not!

With that, Moen grabbed the potion and downed it in one gulp.

After drinking, Moen was just about to bask in his senior’s stunned admiration, only to notice a tinge of exasperation in Anna-senpai’s gaze.

“Moen.”

“Hmm?”

“Potions require specific dosages. You didn’t need to drink the entire thing.”

“… Can I spit it out?”

“No.”

Just as Anna spoke, she suddenly burst into laughter, her entire frame trembling as the sound of her amusement filled the room.

“Hahaha… You’re hilarious, Moen. Who drinks that much potion all in one go? And that face you made just now—were you hoping I’d praise you?”

“I just feel like I’m an idiot.”

Moen lamented, practically wishing for a hole to crawl into. “So… will drinking too much cause any problems?”

“No, don’t worry.”

His senior actually came over and patted Moen’s head gently, her voice soft, “It’ll just make the effects last a little longer.”

“Is that so? Then I’m relieved.”

Feeling the warmth of her touch, Moen let out a sigh of relief.

At least drinking too much wouldn't cause any harmful side effects.

“So what’s next…”

“We wait.”

Anna smiled. “Let’s see what you’ll transform into.”

———

Five minutes…

Ten minutes…

Thirty minutes…

An hour…

By the time the evening meal bell rang from the cafeteria, Moen still hadn’t undergone any changes.

“Um… Senior, this potion seems to be… taking its time, doesn’t it?”

“…”

For the first time, Anna appeared somewhat at a loss for words. Taking out a battered ancient text, she flipped through its pages.

After a moment, she pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Sorry, junior. It seems there was a mistake in my brewing process. The potion is ineffective.”

“So, what now?”

“Well… Let’s call it a day. It’s dinner time—go grab something to eat.”

Anna’s smile returned as she stood up to send him off.

But Moen couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something hidden in that smile of hers.

“Alright.”

Resigned, Moen nodded obediently.

“Goodbye, Senior.”

“Goodbye, Moen.”

Exiting the Ancient Pothion Club’s classroom, Moen lingered just a moment before glancing back casually.

Anna stood by the window, gazing out at the bustle beyond.

Yet she looked as though she didn’t belong to this world—distant, chilled, and achingly lonely.

———

At dinner, Moen bumped into Ariel, who was struggling valiantly in a corner against the cafeteria’s infamously tough black bread.

The bread was cold, hard, and rumored to be as much a weapon as a meal for the impoverished. In Belland’s Lower City District, there were even annual reports of people being beaten to death with loaves of black bread.

Watching Ariel battle her meal seemed more grueling than witnessing her fight an opponent two entire levels above her.

Feeling sorry for her, Moen thought about inviting her to eat together, but the faint aura of menacing hostility she radiated made him hesitate.

After some thought… he chickened out.

Sneaking up to the second floor, he had a quick meal and then promptly made his escape.

For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that going near her might actually get him killed with a breadstick.

Better safe than sorry.

———

“Ah, such a peaceful time.”

Stretching lazily on his way back to the dormitory, Moen basked in the calm and beauty of his surroundings.

His life at the academy had finally settled into some semblance of normalcy. With the matter of his Foundations of Magic professor resolved, and no signs of Ariel suddenly lunging at him to take his life…

Though Ariel had been giving off genuinely unsettling vibes lately.

Even the rumors and prejudice should start dissipating soon, thanks to the reorganization of the news agency and his own diligence.

“According to the plot of the original story, the academy’s first major event should happen in about a month.”

“The third-layer Grand Secret Apparatus that protects the academy will malfunction for some reason, allowing enemies to infiltrate.”

“So that means… I have a whole month of peace left?”

Moen rubbed his chin, smiling.

After everything he’d been through recently, the thought of an entire month without turmoil seemed blissfully satisfying.

———

“Acting Headmaster!”

In the clock tower’s headmaster’s office, Professor Pulan slammed a hand onto the desk as he glared furiously at the slouched figure in the chair—a ridiculous-looking pink bear.

“Why did you shut down the third-layer Grand Secret Apparatus?!”

“Why?”

From within the bear’s mouth, a hairy, muscular arm emerged, holding a lit cigar. White smoke wafted lazily from the bear’s eyes and ears.

“Because it’s outrageously expensive, of course. I went over the academy’s expenditure reports and found that maintaining the third-layer Grand Secret Apparatus consumes a fifth of the entire budget. Don’t you think that’s wasteful?”

The pink bear spoke in a lazy, drawling tone, like a down-and-out middle-aged man.

“So you spent the academy’s money on premium cigars and obscene Saintess pin-ups instead!?”

Professor Pulan slammed a magazine depicting scantily clad women onto the floor. “Aren’t you afraid the Life Church will charge you with desecration of the holy Saintesses?!”

“Hey, hey, don’t go making false accusations. Sure, they’re called Saintess pin-ups, but the women in these have nothing to do with real Saintesses—they just look like them, alright? Get your facts straight.”

The pink bear carefully retrieved the magazine, patting the dust off with exaggerated care.

“These are hard to come by, you know. Cost me a fortune.”

“The problem is, you’re spending the academy’s money!”

“And I’m the acting headmaster now. Academy funds are my funds, aren’t they?”

“But it’s me who has to submit the financial reports to the higher-ups at year’s end!”

“…”

The pink bear went silent, then suddenly placed its pungently smoky paw on Pulan’s shoulder.

“Hang in there. You’ve got this—I believe in you.”

“Stop trying to give me pep talks!”

Professor Pulan smacked the paw away, veins bulging in frustration.

“And this is all trivial compared to the real issue! I’m here to ask why you shut down the third-layer Grand Secret Apparatus! That apparatus is vital to protecting the students! If you shut it down, how do you guarantee their safety?”

“Don’t give me that nonsense about expenses. The funding for the apparatus solely comes from the annual donations by the nobles—it has nothing to do with other budgets!”

“Sigh, don’t you get it yet, Professor?”

The pink bear let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“Get… what?”

“Tsk, someone as sharp as you, acting so clueless now?”

The pink bear took a deep drag of its cigar, exhaling a perfect smoke ring before continuing.

“Have you ever wondered why they appointed *me* as the acting headmaster in the first place?”

“Because—”

Professor Pulan stopped mid-sentence, his rage quickly cooling as if extinguished by a bucket of ice water.

Some things are easy to overlook… until pointed out.

And once pointed out, they’re impossible to unsee—like ghosts in the daylight, lingering ominously in plain view.

For instance:

Why would someone as wildly unfit for leadership as the pink bear be assigned as acting headmaster?

And why had the beloved Headmaster Hathaway remained silent on this whole affair before her departure?

“Do you understand now?”

Taking one last drag, the pink bear stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray with a harsh motion.

“My appointment is a message. A very clear message—from the higher-ups.”

“They can no longer tolerate the academy's gentle approach to education!”

"But... isn't this method of education good?" Professor Pulan's eyes revealed a hint of confusion. "They’re still just children."

"Professor Pulan, have you forgotten? I was once a student of Saint Maria Academy."

Pink Bear began to recall wistfully, "Back then, Saint Maria, though losing dozens of students every year, was still known as the Golden Era. It was that very generation that laid the foundation stone for today’s empire.

So now, after the completion of the Third Grand Mysticism Layer, how long has it been since a Golden Age appeared in the academy? Professor Pulan, do you really believe this is an issue of talent?

No, it's because a life of comfort has corrupted those students!

Professor Pulan, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it.”

"But... isn't this too hasty?"

Professor Pulan gritted his teeth and said, "We could start by revising the curriculum. There's no need to resort to this so abruptly..."

"Because there’s no more time."

Pink Bear sighed.

"The original plan, as you said, was to intensify student training for a while before gradually activating the Third Grand Mysticism Layer a month later. However, due to an unexpected issue, we’ve had no choice but to bring it forward."

"An unexpected issue?"

"Do you want to know?"

Pink Bear chuckled, pulling out a black slate and placing it in front of Professor Pulan.

"Swear first!"

"A Silence Oath?"

Looking at the black slate, Professor Pulan's expression grew steadily heavier.

"It’s that serious?"

Pink Bear shrugged, indicating he couldn’t say anything.

"Fine. I hope your explanation won’t disappoint me."

After a moment of silence, Professor Pulan raised his hand and pressed his palm onto the slate.

Immediately, intricate patterns lit up on the stone. An unseen energy descended from somewhere imperceptible, forming golden characters that burrowed into Professor Pulan's heart.

The oath was sealed.

It was the power of divine law. Anyone who broke an oath sworn upon the black slate would immediately suffer heart failure and die.

Professor Pulan withdrew his hand, glaring coldly at Pink Bear.

"Now you’d better explain."

"Alright, alright, don’t rush."

Pink Bear pulled out a cigar, expertly snipped it, lit it, and took a deep draw. As smoke began to escape through the eyes, ears, and even the top of the costume, Pink Bear transformed from "Pink Bear" into a quite literally "Pink Bear the Angry". Only then did he speak unhurriedly:

"It's actually quite simple. The Dark God is making a move again."

"The Dark God is always making moves."

Professor Pulan was unfazed. "Those cultists never know peace."

"That's why I said it's the Dark God himself, not the cultists."

"The Dark God itself? Personally?"

This time, even Professor Pulan couldn’t remain composed. He understood the vast difference in implications between these two seemingly similar concepts.

"Which one?"

"Take a look at this."

Pink Bear pulled out a piece of white paper and a pen. With some scribbles and drawings, he eventually created a crude child's sketch of a sun, though the center of this “sun” featured a single glaring eye.

【King of Wither】

Professor Pulan murmured silently in his heart.

"And then."

Pink Bear grabbed another piece of white paper, again scrawled something on it, this time yielding a crooked crescent moon.

【Moon of Silence】

Professor Pulan silently mouthed the phrase again.

"Finally."

Pink Bear raised the sun-drawn paper in one hand and made it slowly approach the moon-drawn paper in the other.

【King of Wither is slowly approaching Moon of Silence】

"Wait—"

As soon as he grasped the implications of Pink Bear’s actions, Professor Pulan’s disbelief froze him.

"You mean... it is moving closer to it?"

"Exactly."

"But how is that possible? Isn’t it said the Dark Gods mostly just ignore each other for eternity?"

"Who knows?"

Pink Bear shrugged, then casually tossed the sun-drawn paper aside.

“However, with its personality, this proactive move toward the other one isn’t likely an amicable invitation of wine and roses. It’s more probable that it found some dirt on the other and is rushing over to teach them a good lesson.”

"Are you kidding me?"

Professor Pulan couldn’t help but hold his head. "If those two start a war..."

"Exactly."

Pink Bear completed the thought for him. "It's a divine war."

"......"

"Heh, regret learning the truth now?" Seeing the pensive look on Professor Pulan's face, Pink Bear teased in a supremely sarcastic tone:

"Playing dumb really isn’t that bad, huh? Honestly, I wish I could go back and slap my curious past self. Why couldn’t you just stay on the beach watching beauties? Why’d you have to get curious? Now look where that got me—neck deep in this mess."

"…I think I finally understand the council’s perspective now," Professor Pulan replied at last. He rubbed his face wearily, as if a decade of age had suddenly caught up to him. "But to hastily shut down the Third Grand Mysticism Layer… it’s clear they’re doing it for more than just preparing students for chaos."

"Oh? You’re finally catching on."

Pink Bear sneered:

"Of course, it’s not that simple. The effects of a divine war on the world remain unknown, but to borrow someone else’s words—this world’s fate was already like a chaotic boiling pot of stew. Throw in some ingredients like 'contemplations of the cosmos' into that mess, and no one can predict what kind of dish we’ll get in the end.

So, of course, those higher-ups would prioritize protecting whatever's sealed beneath Saint Maria over worrying about the students. Redirecting the energy of the Third Grand Mysticism Layer to reinforce the First and Second Layers? It’s only logical."

"Understood."

Professor Pulan sighed deeply, suddenly looking utterly fatigued. "All for the students? No, it’s all for profit—or what they love calling 'the greater good,' right?"

"Glad you’re seeing it clearly now."

Pink Bear clapped the professor on the shoulder, consolingly yet mockingly.

"Lighten up—it’s just shutting down one Mysticism Layer. It’s not like someone’s invading the academy right away, so what’s there to worry about?"

...

...

In a secret location, several towering bonfires blazed.

At the center of the space, a massive unlit pyre was already constructed. On it, a naked man was tied, writhing in pain.

Surrounding the unlit pyre were dozens of muscle-bound men clad only in loincloths, holding torches aloft and chanting passionately:

"Burn him! Burn him!"

"Burn the heretic!"

"Death! Death! Death!"

"Everyone—QUIET!"

With a commanding shout, the entire crowd of muscular men fell silent, turning their fervent gazes toward a podium at the base of the pyre. There, the most robust man among them stood tall.

The strongest man held a thick book aloft, raising it above his head as he proclaimed loudly:

"Today, under the witness of the Sacred Codex, we shall judge this vile traitor, this loathsome degenerate, this despicable violator of our doctrines!"

"I didn’t do it! I didn’t!"

Bound upon the pyre, the man struggled and yelled desperately. "Have mercy, High Priest! I didn’t betray the doctrine!"

"Liar!"

The high priest rebuffed sharply, scanning the crowd before pointing to a scar-faced man.

"You there, that recruit—recite the First Doctrine of the True Love Cult!"

"Yes, sir!"

The scar-faced muscle man stepped forward and bellowed spiritedly:

"The First Doctrine of True Love: Homosexuality is true love; heterosexuality is heresy!"

"Precisely!"

The high priest shouted in satisfaction. "Homosexuality is true love; heterosexuality is heresy. Yet—"

The high priest turned his gaze toward the naked man.

"Why then was I informed you were witnessed engaging in intimate acts with female?"

"That was my family’s cow! I was just milking my family’s cow! Have mercy, High Priest! I was just milking it, I promise—I didn’t do anything else!"

"Ridiculous!"

The high priest roared in fury. "Just milking? Couldn’t you milk a bull instead? Are you prejudiced against bulls? And you claim you didn’t have any ulterior motives? Who’s buying that?"

"High Priest, I..."

The man tried to plead further, but with a single gesture from the high priest, his mouth opened and closed soundlessly, his voice stolen.

The high priest opened the sacred book solemnly and declared:

"According to the holy guidance of the Great Codex, the penalty for this perfidious traitor is: fire purification!"

"Fire purification!"

"Fire purification!"

Below the pyre, dozens of muscular men raised their arms high, fervently chanting:

"Fire purification!"

The flames soon climbed upward, engulfing the bound man. Though his screams were silent, the scent of burning flesh wafted through the air. Yet those present wore expressions of bliss, as though savoring fragrant wine.

"Besides punishing this traitor today, I have another announcement for all of you."

The high priest raised his arms aloft, looking solemnly at the crowd with a fanatical gleam in his eyes.

"Not long ago, our great God of Love bestowed upon us a divine revelation!"

"He has proclaimed—The Holy War has begun."

The high priest extended his arm, pointing toward a distant direction cloaked in darkness.

"Over there lies the accursed Santa Maria College.

A lair of heretics, a refuge of blasphemers. And within it, our prey awaits.

Tonight, the barrier that has long separated us from that place will vanish.

We shall follow the great God of Love's guidance, traverse the trials ahead, and journey to that place.

Then—"

The high priest's words rang out like the chilling clang of a hammer:

"Eliminate that disgraceful blasphemer.

—Moen Campbell!"

...

...

In the depths of shadow, whispers stirred like an ethereal conversation.

"Do you really think involving these lunatics is a good idea?"

"Heh. Among worshippers of the God of Corruption, has there ever been anyone sane? But precisely because of that, there’s no one better at stirring up chaos."

"Alright then. Let’s hope everything goes smoothly."

……

……

The rain poured relentlessly.

The world seemed to be drowning in the torrential downpour, yet high above the skies, a blue moon hung bright and serene.

Hiss—

Hiss—

An eerie sound enveloped the ears, as though it could strip away a person's rationality completely.

A suffocating terror made it hard to breathe, and a heavy shadow began to press closer and closer.

The strong stench of blood pierced the nostrils.

At this moment, it felt as though the whispers of a demon were echoing by the ears.

She spoke.

——"I want to devour your heart."

And then, an agonizing pain radiated from the chest.

A seductive shadow held a pulsating, burning heart in her hands.

Under the moonlight, she laughed softly.

……

……

"Damn it—"

Moen sprang awake from the nightmare, drenched in sweat.

However, after a brief moment of daze, he realized something was wrong.

It wasn't just an ordinary dream, because the sensations were far too vivid—nothing like what could happen in a typical dream.

Which meant...

"Was that another damned prophetic dream?"

Moen froze for a second and quickly pulled out his Black Book, flipping through its pages in haste.

The Black Book showed no anomalies, and his recent records contained absolutely nothing unusual.

The appearance of a prophetic dream always caught him off guard, completely without warning.

But if it did appear, it meant one thing...

Moen slapped his thigh and shouted, "The cursed author has started pushing the main plotline again!"

"Wait, no, why am I even thinking something so strange?"

Shaking his head, Moen threw the inexplicable thoughts out of his mind and sharpened his gaze instantly.

Clutching the Black Book tightly, he shook it furiously:

"Damned Black Book, why do you keep showing me bizarre prophetic dreams? Can't you give me something more detailed for once?"

"Last time was being sliced into pieces, and this time it's getting my heart ripped out? Are you planning to run me through all the top ten torture methods from history before you're satisfied?"

The prophetic dreams were still terrifying.

Moen could vividly recall the rain, the blue moon, the smell of blood, and the seductive shadow that had torn his heart from his chest.

But—

Just like the last time, there wasn’t a single useful clue.

The voice and shadow seemed to have undergone some sort of deliberate distortion, making them entirely featureless.

It didn’t feel like the Black Book was telling him what to do.

It felt like it was issuing a warning.

Fate has started tormenting you again; hurry up and struggle.

"But if I’m supposed to struggle, shouldn’t you at least tell me how? Throwing vague prophetic dreams at me is useless! I'd be better off getting a peaceful sleep night!"

Moen roared at the Black Book.

Of course, his yelling accomplished absolutely nothing.

The Black Book had shown faint signs of self-awareness during the last incident, but since then, no matter how Moen called out to it, it had remained entirely unresponsive.

"Whatever. I've gotten used to it."

Other people's cheats—they’re polite, they're charismatic, and in moments of loneliness, they might even transform into a beautiful girl to chat with you.

My cheat? Ha. It’s just a piece of deadwood.

Deadwood or not, at least it’s better than having nothing.

Waking up from a prophetic dream, Moen had lost all desire to go back to sleep. He decided to head to the bathroom, wash his face, and start studying ahead of schedule for the day.

"Strange, why do my shoulders feel so heavy today?"

While massaging his shoulders, Moen walked into the bathroom.

He washed his face.

Lifted his head.

And after wiping away the last traces of water with a towel, he froze instantly.

He blinked.

Rubbed his eyes.

And when he was sure he wasn’t seeing things or still dreaming, Moen stroked his chin in deep thought.

"Who’s the blonde bombshell with voluptuous waves in the mirror?"