"As expected, the essence of this move lies in vibration, doesn’t it?"

Amidst the wreckage of the hallway, Moen sat atop a chunk of shattered wall debris, observing the motion of his own hand.

His five fingers alternated between curling and stretching, mimicking various beast-like claw forms. Despite the incessant variation in his movements, all remained fundamentally the same—with each gesture of his hand, the surrounding air vibrated and resonated softly.

**Thunder LV2!**

Gazing at the records in the Black Book, Moen couldn't help but reveal a delighted expression.

After enduring hundreds of defeats at the hands of Aluka's husband, a formidable adventurer, he had finally grasped the basics of this technique.

Compared to the Shadow Step, which served only as a movement skill, and the dagger combat technique that was less of a martial art and more of a pure skill, this move had notably broader applicability.

In fact, one could say this was the first offensive martial art Moen had learned.

Moreover, even at merely **LV2**, its power was already considerable. Moen dared not imagine how terrifying it might become once his proficiency with it advanced even further.

However, precisely for this reason, the learning difficulty of this move was incomparably harder than that of **Shadow Step**.

"But as long as you’ve grasped the basics, progression afterward will become much easier."

Learning martial arts through combat—without the guidance of a teacher—always started with the hardest part: mastering the fundamentals.

Yet, once this hurdle was cleared, intense training would often facilitate rapid subsequent improvement.

For example, Moen’s dagger combat skill had now reached **LV8**.

In terms of dagger-handling techniques alone, Moen prided himself on being no weaker than the maid assassin he faced back then.

Of course, according to the simulations in the Black Book, he still stood no chance against her, since crossing gaps in realms and overall abilities was something Moen had yet to achieve.

"I’ve got a long way to go," Moen mused as he shifted his gaze nearby.

Lying on the ground, drenched in blood, with his body trembling, was Reine. Low, guttural groans escaped from his throat.

Reine opened his eyes, confusion filling them.

"You’re awake, Reine?"

"What... what's happening to me?" His words fought through the searing pain that tore at his sanity as he turned his head with great effort to look at his body.

His right hand was pinned to the ground by a fruit knife, the blade embedded fully into his palm, all the way to the hilt. His other limbs exhibited grotesque fractures of varying severity. When Reine tried to move them, the pain only intensified, clawing at his nerves with no sign of relief.

"Sorry, you were too terrifying earlier, so I temporarily robbed you of your ability to move," Moen explained softly.

"Do you remember what happened just now?"

"I..."

Reine’s cracked and dried lips struggled to utter words. His mind was steeped in disarray from the excessive blood loss, though he retained fragmented memories of what had transpired.

He recalled inviting a group of heretical followers into the dormitory on the pretense of seeking out Moen.

He remembered battling Moen Campbell and being utterly outmatched, reduced to his current state.

And before all this...

He’d stolen men’s underwear from other dorm rooms, as if it were some prized possession. He’d even gone so far as to secure an ordinary wardrobe with over a dozen locks.

Yet the most confounding part wasn’t merely what he had done, but why he’d done it.

Why would he harm his fellow students?

Why would he join those heretical followers?

Most puzzling of all...

Why would he indulge in such perverse behavior?

He had always longed for a cute girlfriend. He wasn’t... *that* kind of person.

"It seems you’ve finally come to your senses."

Moen fixed his gaze on Reine’s eyes. Noting that the angry and hideous expression from earlier had vanished, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"But forgive me, I can’t free you just yet; I need certainty that Dark God’s influence on you is completely gone."

"I’m sorry... Moen," Reine stammered, tremors wracking his body as tears spilled from his eyes.

Boundless remorse overwhelmed his heart. Though he couldn’t grasp why he had perpetrated those deeds, deep down he understood they were fundamentally wrong.

"It’s alright. I don’t hold a grudge." Moen smiled, his sharply handsome face—the epitome of golden proportions—illuminated by the outside light, seeming to glow softly.

"Do you remember when this started happening to you?"

"When did it start…?" Reine delved into his scattered memories.

"I think… before the semester started...

I was strolling downtown when I came across people handing out flyers…

The flyer said they could make me more well-liked, help me find true love...

So I decided to go. I can’t recall exactly *where* it was, though.

When I got there, the High Priest spoke with me about something... and then... I started thinking… Well, since I can’t find a girlfriend anyway... maybe liking men isn’t so bad?

And when I snapped out of it, I was already back at school.

On the surface, I didn’t feel anything unusual about myself. I thought I’d just had an odd dream. But, every night since then, I couldn’t stop myself from doing those things...

And with those people… when they appeared in front of me, I felt dazed… almost as if I wasn’t myself anymore.

Even during our battle, when I faced you—Moen—the rage in my chest burned uncontrollably, as though your accusations offended my sense of love."

"So that’s how it is."

Moen let out a soft sigh, though a subtle smile of relief crept onto his face.

"Unlucky as you may be, you’re fortunate that your mind was merely controlled through certain manipulations rather than being deeply corrupted by the Dark God. Or rather, the corruption on you is still very mild."

Take Aluka, for instance—or the High Priest—their corruption by the god of love manifested quite tangibly. When triggered by emotional instability or left with no alternative, they transformed into grotesque, repulsive monsters.

Such forms represented their fully twisted inner selves, a state where the Dark God’s power had penetrated every fiber of their being.

But Reine hadn’t reached that point. His earlier changes in physique seemed to be more akin to his own martial ability—or perhaps a natural talent.

And the fact that he could regain his senses was proof that he wasn’t beyond redemption.

"I really am sorry… I just… I just wanted a cute girlfriend," Reine apologized again, tears and snot mixing with the blood drenching his face, making him appear utterly pitiful.

Once the Dark God’s influence receded, Reine’s true nature finally surfaced before Moen—not as an irritable deviant or a psychologically warped boy—but as an ordinary teenager troubled by his yearning for acceptance from cute girls.

"That’s how it is, huh? Well, given that I’m the academy’s renowned playboy, I’ll teach you how to win a cute girl’s heart," Moen offered suddenly.

"Huh?"

Reine barely grasped Moen’s words when he saw the latter rise abruptly, turning to gaze out the hallway window.

In stark contrast to the darkness outside, a powerful flare of floodlights illuminated a horrifyingly large and twisted creature thrashing furiously in the dormitory courtyard.

It was the High Priest.

After being cornered by Ariel alongside Santa Maria College’s elite student council members, the High Priest transformed—devouring several muscle-bound henchmen to become a grotesquely massive monstrosity.

But unlike Aluka’s case from before, this time was different.

This was Santa Maria College, renowned for its magical prowess.

With its sheer size, the creature had become a perfect target.

Under the onslaught of fierce, concentrated magical attacks, the High Priest’s regeneration ability was swiftly overwhelmed, leaving ruptures and gaps across its lumbering form.

At last, the source of corruption—the heavy tome—surfaced amidst the creature’s writhing flesh, trying to evade the magical bombardments as though it were sentient.

But now that the source had revealed itself, there was no reason to let it go.

Moen bent over, picking up that great sword and moving toward the shattered window.

“Oh, right.”

Just before leaping out, Moen turned back to Reine, gesturing towards his ear.

"The slice on your ear is clean, so with timely magic intervention, it should heal up nicely. Don’t worry; your looks won’t be ruined enough to hurt your chances with girls."

"Moen…"

"So watch carefully."

Moen smiled, then turned and fearlessly leapt from the upper floor toward the monster below.

"Rule number one for winning a cute girl’s heart:

**Never miss a chance to show off your style!**"