Above the firmament, the blue moon loomed menacingly.

A young girl stood in the air. Her pink nightgown danced in the breeze, while her long white hair spread out, shimmering with a faint blue fluorescence.

Before that enormous blue moon, which seemed to occupy nearly half the sky, the girl appeared so insignificant, like a mere speck of dust.

But the moment she appeared, the lifeless spectral shadows that had been frantically eroding the academy beneath her feet suddenly froze.

As if time itself had been stilled, those entities that had troubled Professor Pulan to no end—formless shadows without any physical substance—transformed, one by one, into grotesquely twisted statues.

Terrifying eyes dropped from the infinite horizon. Amid the boundless will of death and madness, there lingered a trace of... solemnity.

"Well, well, it’s been a while."

The girl tilted her head back, her red eyes reflecting the blue moon.

The moon remained silent, yet the jagged shadows carved by its craters and lunar seas seemed heavier and darker than ever.

"It seems you still dislike me as much as ever."

The girl shook her head helplessly, her gaze shifting to a grotesque mass of flesh nearby.

"And as for you, why is it that every time I see you, you’re so revolting? Love God."

The writhing lump of flesh, sporting only a single eye, began to squirm, and soon that eye twisted into an unnatural mouth, emitting a grating noise akin to iron scraping against iron.

"...You... are actually still alive?"

"Heh, are you surprised I’m still breathing?"

The girl smiled. "But there’s a saying, isn’t there? Girls who love to sleep age slower. For someone like me, who sleeps through decades as an eighteen-year-old in her prime, living a little longer seems perfectly normal, doesn’t it?"

"However, Love God, during my little nap, it appears you’ve been particularly attentive to my academy."

The girl raised her hand, aimed at the grotesque flesh ball, and then made a grasping motion.

In an instant, the flesh ball let out a sharp scream before exploding with a loud bang, scattering into countless tiny fragments of flesh.

"Wanna escape?"

The girl, whose delicate face still carried traces of baby fat, now showed an expression of icy coldness.

"Since you’ve come visiting, mustn’t you leave behind a little gift?"

With a gentle flick of her pink, star-shaped magic wand, a tremendous roaring sound erupted.

On the twelve black towers of the academy, more immense and overwhelming magical energy surged forth than ever had under Professor Pulan's control, causing them to glow with an overloaded crimson hue.

Under the girl’s command, the First Tier Grand Ritual was activated. A new structure arose from the academy’s deepest foundation, transforming beneath her feet into a sea of silver.

It resembled an endlessly flowing mercury.

Moments later.

The boundless sea of silver instantly solidified.

Smooth as a mirror.

The reflection showed the colossal blue moon and the scattering flesh fragments scrambling away.

But those fleeing fragments abruptly lost direction.

The Love God’s remains outside the mirror had vanished, and it seemed as though the reflections within had unwittingly become reality.

Realizing it was trapped within, the flesh ball twisted toward the white-haired girl outside the mirror, releasing furious screeches.

"Stop yelling."

The girl reached out and gently scooped something from the mirror.

Instantly, the flesh ball lost all vitality, and she appeared to hold something in her hand.

It was a distorted, intangible essence.

Weighing it lightly, the girl revealed a faint expression of regret.

"No wonder you’ve grown so weak after losing that Crowned Flesh—it turns out only a fraction of your will was projected here? Truly fitting for a coward like you, Love God. Dark God's shame suits you well."

Losing interest, the girl casually tossed the twisted intangible essence back into the mirror.

Then, she lifted her head and gazed once more at the blue moon.

Moonlight, cold and lifeless as a waterfall, fell downward.

Yet, what should have been infinite in speed seemed to encounter resistance; within the silver mirror’s reflection, the light meandered, transforming into wisps of pale blue mist.

These mists hovered above the academy, drifting as if blown by the wind, hesitant to descend.

"As for you, moon," the girl said in a voice soft as a song, reaching the moon above.

Her words seemed to defy the divine, spoken beneath the heavens as a declaration of insolence.

Thus, the Moon of Silence erupted in wrath!

Countless shadows surged forth from the backs of craters and obscured lunar seas, like ink drops spreading across this ghostly blue moon.

These expanding shadows formed two upside-down crescents and a large upright crescent.

The interplay of moon and its shadow resembled a sinisterly smirking clown mask.

Within that profound darkness, blood-red eyes opened one after another, glaring at the insignificant mortal who dared defy it!

Boom!

The night sky trembled!

The pitch-black firmament, once cloudless, rippled like waves struck by an iron ball, forming visible vortexes of distortion.

Even the barriers separating worlds seemed threatened, as though they might shatter under an ineffable force. Lunar radiance spread, animating the world’s shadows.

Even the silver mirror below the girl’s feet began to quake.

Within that mirror, the endless spectral apparitions that had emerged from regions of death abruptly broke free from their temporal stagnation, mutating foul black limbs and roaring as they struck the academy’s deepest structures.

At that moment, the Moon of Silence gave up its territorial bind on this land, shifting to an all-out assault.

Across the world, many mighty beings awoke from their slumbers, casting shocked gazes at the heavens.

"Oh? Lost your temper?"

The girl sighed lightly:

"But rules are rules—that barrier between worlds isn’t so easily broken. Your reckless assault achieves nothing beyond wasting your own strength."

"So..."

Her fearless eyes locked onto the grotesque, now beauty-stripped lunar visage, her expression solemn.

"Get lost, moon. This is my domain, not yours to profane!"

As her sharp words fell.

The resonating toll of a grand bell reverberated.

From the academy’s tallest belfry, a shadow was cast upon the silver mirror—a clear reflection, resembling the hands of a clock.

The twelve black towers surrounding the academy formed the dial.

The hand tilted, pointing midway between five and six.

Then tilted further.

Within mere breaths, time quickly moved between the hands fully marking six.

Invisible rules unfolded.

Thus, unnoticed by most save the strongest, this morning was peculiar:

Half an hour of time silently vanished from the world.

Six o’clock exactly.

The dark horizon had a faint glimmer.

It was the break of dawn.

The bell rang once more.

As if shrinking further in stature, the girl reached out toward the grotesque blue moon as if to grasp it within her palm.

"Look now, Moon of Silence."

Fixing her gaze on the receding night, she coldly declared:

"Morning has come."

...

...

"It’s over."

Staring at the brightening sky and the steadily dimming blue moon, the girl let out a sigh of relief.

After all, a dark god near incarnation, even she felt some pressure handling it.

"Fortunately, the price was manageable—barely within acceptable limits."

Yet, tugging at her now slightly loose nightgown, displeasure flickered in her crimson eyes.

There was no room to be any smaller.

"Now, let me see... why did you dare intrude upon my academy, moon?"

As her cool words fell, the bluish hue in her eyes dissipated, giving way to countless stars.

Those stars shimmered and shifted, tracing mysterious paths in the boundless void.

The girl studied these traces, trying to foresee the threads of fate.

"You’re... afraid?"

The first uncovered thread left the girl slightly stunned.

The stars continued to glimmer.

"Because of... the King of Wither?"

Her gaze dimmed slightly. She recalled the boy barely touched by the King of Wither’s blessing.

But this revelation left her even more perplexed.

The Moon of Silence and the King of Wither belonged to the same rank as dark gods.

Their dominions were entirely opposing, yet symbiotic—both incompatible rivals yet uncanny mirrors of each other.

Under normal circumstances, even in direct conflict, neither could decisively surpass the other.

Why, then, was the Moon of Silence afraid of the King of Wither?

What’s more, the King of Wither appeared to be relentlessly closing in on the Moon of Silence, eager and insatiable. Two months, perhaps half a year, would mark their meeting—and the eruption of divine war.

As for the cause? Impossible to deduce.

Through her foresight, she could see no further than limits imposed by uncertainty—so obscured by fog that one knew other forces lay beneath.

So she relinquished insight and turned to reasoning.

One didn’t always need clarity of destiny to grasp the truth.

For gods, beings supreme, the reasons forcing their actions were never many.

Often, possessing knowledge beyond one’s age and era sufficed.

Fortunately, she lacked no wisdom.

Quickly, she hypothesized the most plausible scenario.

"Perhaps... the King of Wither has uncovered your weakness."

"And thus, desires your utter annihilation—to consume your dominion wholesale."

"And you, fearing this inevitability, intruded upon the academy for its buried relic."

"Ah, I see now. I understand your motive. Yet..."

Fixing her gaze on the fading moon, the girl sighed wistfully.

"To my knowledge, only one and a half mortals ever knew divine weaknesses."

"No—one and a half, where one among them long since perished."

"In conclusion..."

Her eyes glimmered faintly, her calm ocean suddenly riffled with silent chaos.

"That artifact... it exists even now?"

...

...

"Professor Gran."

"Don’t talk to me!"

In a sea of flowers, Professor Grann, disassembled similarly to Moen, grumbled furiously, "I don’t know you!"

"Professor, can you stop being so childish?" Moen twitched with exasperation.

"Childish? After you tricked me into this mess, how am I not justified in my anger?" Gran snapped.

"Wasn’t it Professor who got me into trouble first?"

Moen smirked, retaliating coldly:

"Don't tell me that candy was meant for me."

"…"

Professor Gran guiltily averted his gaze.

"Alright, I just wanted to ask you a question."

Moen sighed softly and then asked, "The Moon of Silence incident targeting the academy—what’s the real situation behind it?"

"Hm? You're just a student—why are you asking so much?" Professor Gran asked, puzzled.

"Curiosity."

Moen replied expressionlessly with a random excuse, "Isn't it normal for people to be curious about these things? Honestly, Professor, my curiosity has almost reached its breaking point. If I don't find out the details, I feel like I might die."

"Hm, that’s true."

Professor Gran nodded earnestly. "Normal people would indeed be very curious.

But, unfortunately, even I don’t know much about the specifics. Once something involves the dark gods, those who know are usually bound by a silence pact."

A silence pact...

Moen frowned. "Then… any insignificant information…?"

"What kind of information do you expect me to know?"

Professor Gran shrugged his shoulders from a few meters away.

"I only overheard that old fart Pulan sighing about how this matter seems to involve a third dark god. Other than that, I don’t know a thing."

"A third dark god?"

Moen fell into thought, and then a hint of realization flickered in his eyes, making them light up.

"Thank you, Professor Gran. I'm off to bed."

"Huh? Going to sleep?"

Professor Gran stared at Moen in shock. "How do you even sleep at a time like this?"

Ignoring Professor Gran, Moen closed his eyes.

His consciousness submerged into the Black Book's space.

The Black Book, which had disappeared in front of the formidable, white-haired lolicon earlier, now floated quietly before him, as if it had been waiting for his arrival all along.

"It seems you know my intent, Black Book."

Moen's gaze flickered slightly, and he asked, "So I won’t waste time. The third dark god Professor Gran mentioned—is it the King of Wither? After all, aside from the god of love, the King of Wither is the only one I’ve had interactions with."

[…]

"Then the shift in the Moon of Silence's behavior… It’s also because of the King of Wither, isn’t it? To influence the actions of a dark god, only another dark god could achieve that."

[…]

"And the King of Wither's actions underwent some kind of unknown change, likely because of its interactions with me earlier. Yet I'm merely a mortal—I couldn’t possibly influence the King of Wither directly. Which means…"

Moen paused before continuing, "The true cause of this chain reaction… is actually you."

[…]

"So, Black Book, the page you gave to the King of Wither in exchange for my power back then—what exactly was written on it? Don’t try to tell me it was merely an IOU!"

[Sigh…]

As Moen's questioning grew sharper, a faint sigh echoed through the space.

The Black Book began to turn its pages, and then it settled on a blank one.

Soon, neat lettering started appearing on the blank page.

[Information.]

"Information?"

Moen questioned in confusion, "What kind of information?"

The text started shifting.

[The Moon of Silence’s weakness.]

"Huh?"

Moen froze for a moment, then his expression grew alarmed.

"A weakness? For the Moon of Silence? Wait, wait—you actually know something like that? No, hold on, that’s not the issue right now. You gave the Moon of Silence’s weakness to the King of Wither… which means…"

These two gods, whose powers were completely opposite yet oddly interconnected, were natural nemeses but also the closest entities to each other’s essence.

With the King of Wither possessing this information, it surely wouldn’t just casually joke around with the Moon of Silence. Instead, it would seize the opportunity to disembowel, strip, pulverize, and devour the Moon of Silence's authority entirely.

So that’s why the Moon of Silence suddenly invaded the academy.

Moen vaguely remembered something in the original storyline mentioning that the academy housed an object coveted even by gods.

The Moon of Silence attacked to seize this object, gain new power, and defend itself against the knife-and-fork-wielding King of Wither charging toward it.

“No wonder the white-haired lolicon deity mentioned earlier that the power bestowed upon me wasn’t just the King of Wither’s strength, but divine favor.

Infinite use, representing the manifestation of divine authority—divine favor…"

If the trade was for such invaluable information, how could the King of Wither possibly hesitate to bestow divine favor in return?

"But still…"

Moen looked at the Black Book, struggling to understand.

"Why would you do something like this? Back then, it was only meant to be a temporary rescue—you could’ve exchanged something less significant instead."

[For.]

[To save you.]

The Black Book flipped its pages.

The next moment, Moen felt a wave of disorientation.

A scene unfolded before him.

Under a pitch-black sky, pure white wings spread wide.

A crowned saintess, her expression sorrowful, stood before him holding a holy blade.

Ariel, severely injured, leaned on her blade off in the distance, her face pale.

Further away, a furious Professor Pulan rushed toward them.

Looking down, Moen saw a heart, pierced by the holy blade, from which all blood had drained and that no longer beat.

"This is…"

[If the Moon of Silence hadn’t intervened.]

[The god of love would instead target that object.]

New words quickly appeared on the pages of the Black Book.

[Everything would follow the original storyline.]

[The god of love’s invasion would come a year later.]

[The sole difference? The target would no longer be Ariel—but you.]

"Me…"

Moen's pupils contracted abruptly.

In an instant, he fully grasped the meaning of the sudden vision.

In the original storyline, Ariel—a protagonist—had a multitude of plot-armored advantages and breakthroughs to hold out against the saintess manipulated by the god of love until Professor Pulan came to their rescue.

However, what about Moen Campbell?

No, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Because Moen Campbell wasn’t the protagonist.

He had no plot armor, no overpowered perks.

He was merely a despised, ill-fated, yellow-haired villain.

Thus, if events followed their original course…

Moen Campbell.

Would inevitably perish.

…

[This is the earliest prophetic dream.]

[A future destined to unfold if there were no significant external influences.]

…