"Name?"

"Moen Campbell."

"Age?"

"Eighteen."

"Gender?"

"...You need to ask that?"

In a white hospital room, Moen looked at the mature woman dressed in a professional suit and alluring black stockings standing before him and couldn't help but quip:

"Can't you tell for yourself?"

"Of course, I can tell."

The mature woman, who was writing notes, lifted her head, adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, glanced at Moen without expression, and said:

"But as a psychological evaluator, my duty is to assess your mental state through these questions, so please cooperate with answering them. Thank you."

"...Male."

"Good. No issues with self-recognition for now. So then..."

The mature woman took a pair of men's boxer briefs out of a sealed bag and unfolded them in front of Moen:

"Look at these, Moen. Do you have any particular thoughts about them?"

"...Disgusting." Moen twitched his lips.

"Is that so?"

The woman bent her head and continued writing:

"The subject shows clear aversion to male-related items, suggesting possible psychological tendencies leaning toward femininity..."

"Wait a second!"

Moen interrupted her in disbelief:

"I merely hate used underwear! Why does that connect to 'leaning toward femininity'?"

"Do most men dislike male underwear?"

The wisdom in the woman's glasses seemed to pierce through everything:

"Or... are you wearing women's panties right now? If that's the case, the issue might indeed be more serious, potentially..."

"I just hate anything that's been worn before! Naturally, anyone would feel disgusted toward used... whatever!" Moen shouted angrily.

"Really? My apologies, it seems I lack experience in this area."

The woman sighed in realization and then noted down:

"However, the subject displays clear signs of aggression. It's unknown whether this stems from being affected by ..."

"It's all because of YOU! My anger is entirely directed at YOU, you lunatic!"

"The subject harbors distinct violent urges toward the evaluator and speaks disrespectfully. Recommendation..." The woman continued writing.

"..."

Moen was defeated.

Since when did psychologists become this... twisted?

He decided to remain silent from now on, refusing to give her any more opportunities for wild interpretations.

"The subject has entered a prolonged silence, possibly indicating severe psychological trauma from previous events. Recommendation: electroshock therapy."

"Will you STOP already?!"

...

...

"So, how was it?"

Celicia looked at the mature woman leaving the room and asked:

"Is he okay, Dr. Hathaway?"

"Of course he's fine."

Dr. Hathaway glanced at the document in her hand, covered with little red flower doodles, casually crumpled it, and threw it into a nearby trash can:

"Despite suffering significant injuries, he seems to have undergone professional treatment. His spirit is high, his body is strong—he could probably go on seven dates simultaneously without a problem."

"You know that's not what I'm asking," Celicia said.

"Oh? You're that worried about him? Because he's your fiancé?"

Noting Celicia's serious demeanor, Hathaway teased with great interest:

"But I thought you used to dislike him quite a bit."

"..."

"Alright, alright, no jokes. Stop glaring at me; it's terrifying, my dear princess."

Hathaway removed her gold-rimmed glasses, revealing a face graced with mature charm:

"His mental state looks fine, and there's no sign of corruption by a Dark God."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Hathaway smiled brightly:

"I only spoke with him for ten minutes, and he stole glances at my legs at least twenty times. For an adult male, doesn't that prove he's perfectly normal?"

"..." Celicia's gaze turned frosty: "Dr. Hathaway's methods for evaluating mental states are... truly fascinating."

"Alright, alright, don't get angry. At least I uncovered one thing for you—he has a particular liking for black stockings, doesn't he?"

"I think you may be mistaken, Dr. Hathaway."

Celicia lowered her eyes:

"My concern for him stems solely from my responsibilities as Student Council President. There are no other factors involved."

"Well, let's just accept that explanation then."

"By the way, is your current investigation proceeding smoothly?" Celicia changed the subject.

"Not smoothly at all."

Mentioning work brought an immediate headache to Hathaway:

"We're hitting a dead end with no progress."

"So challenging? I remember your temporary reassignment was also related to the Dark God, wasn't it?"

Celicia arched an eyebrow inquisitively:

"Can you share more about the specifics?"

"I can reveal some."

"Some?"

"My reassignment involves two matters. One of them is classified as an Imperial top-secret, requiring a confidentiality agreement from all informed parties. Even you, Celicia, I can't disclose it to."

"The Pink Bear has mentioned this to me before."

Celicia nodded: "What about the other matter?"

"The other matter..."

Hathaway pondered for a moment before responding:

"This one isn’t particularly secretive within the Imperial leadership because it didn’t involve direct contact with a Dark God. Sharing it with you should be fine.

To put it plainly, a small village by Lake Baikal was thoroughly destroyed overnight."

"Overnight?"

Celicia's eyes narrowed:

"What about the villagers?"

"Vanished entirely."

Hathaway spoke gravely:

"We searched the village thoroughly but only found a single head buried beneath a nameless grave marker—and it had been freshly interred not long ago."

"A head?"

Celicia frowned.

Hundreds of people vanished, leaving behind only one head. The scenario was unquestionably bizarre.

"Indeed, a head. A female one, belonging to a registered B-level adventurer with the Adventurers' Association. However, due to her marriage, she had applied for retirement from adventuring. It seemed the village was her hometown.

Using the head for analysis, we identified remnants of corruption caused by a Dark God."

"Which one?"

"Who else could it be? It’s naturally the most active of the Dark Gods—the Corrupted God of Love."

"That one again?"

Celicia's gaze turned stern.

That Corrupted God of Love had appeared at the academy not long ago.

"Busy, isn't it? That Corrupted God."

"Who else? You'd think a Dark God wouldn’t be so motivated, but this one keeps us ordinary folks working overtime to the brink of collapse."

Hathaway gritted her teeth. If she hadn’t been absent during the academy incident, she would’ve brought her wand and charged at that love god, ripping them to shreds to avenge all the overtime work they caused her recently.

"But... an event of this scale shouldn’t leave you overwhelmed, Dr. Hathaway."

Celicia voiced her doubts:

"This may sound cold, but among the major events attributed to Dark Gods, merely destroying a village doesn’t even rank among them."

"True. If this were a simple case of corruption caused by a Dark God, it wouldn’t warrant my involvement. The Empire has specialized agents for these cases.

However, the problem lies in the fact that this instance of corruption was... too clean."

At this point, Hathaway's tone carried an involuntary heaviness she didn’t realize herself.

"Clean to an unsettling degree. Apart from the corruption found inside that head, we unearthed nothing else of value.

There were signs of combat, yet not a trace of magical energy could be detected—as if an invisible black hand wiped everything away."

"No magical traces... warriors, then?"

"Magicians, warriors—perhaps even god-blessed individuals. We speculated plenty, but lacking traces or clues, every idea remains just conjecture."

"What about investigations into the adventurer whose head was found?"

"Challenging. Adventurers are typically highly independent. However, we did discover that her relationships with two adventurer teammates were... complicated. Those two adventurers have also vanished.

We suspect her companions might have perished alongside her, and their complex emotions possibly opened them up to the Corrupted God's influence.

But..."

Hathaway sighed bitterly:

"Knowing that doesn’t change anything. We remain clueless about the core events of the incident."

"I see now..."

Celicia nodded, beginning to understand.

Compared to traditional large-scale corruption leaving problems in its wake, incidents tied to Dark Gods that left nothing behind were far more unsettling.

It was hard not to wonder whether this might be yet another scheme by the Dark Gods.

And the fact it took place near Belland didn't help matters.

No wonder the higher-ups were anxious enough to assign Hathaway to investigate.

Her expertise in Dark God-related corruption gave her unmatched authority, throughout the Empire, on such matters.

“To address this, we even spent a hefty sum seeking help from the Holy City's Grand Astrologer. We hoped his grand divination might provide some clues.” Hathaway sighed, feeling a pang of heartache.

Although the cost was covered by the higher-ups, Hathaway couldn't help but dream about how much “padding” could have enriched her pockets otherwise.

"And what was the outcome?" Celicia asked curiously.

"Beware of blondes."

"Huh?"

The usually composed Celicia paused, wondering if she had misheard.

"You heard that right. The Grand Astrologer's message was simply 'Beware of blondes.'"

Hathaway covered her face with one hand, groaning in exasperation:

"Supposedly, despite the influence of the Dark God distorting visions, he could discern a notable figure from the incident—a person with conspicuous blonde hair.

His advice was clear: beware of blondes."

"Blondes... That covers quite a wide range, doesn’t it?"

"Exactly!"

Hathaway groaned dramatically:

"What kind of blonde? Malnourished yellow? Light blonde? Long blonde? Short blonde? Shouldn't he be more specific?"

"..."

"But even if he were, what could I do? How many blondes are there in Belland anyway? Has anyone ever bothered counting?

If all we have is a 'blonde trait,' how am I supposed to proceed?"

With indignation, Hathaway pointed at the room behind her:

"Even your fiancé counts as a blonde, doesn’t he? Maybe we should capture him for interrogation first and see if anything comes up."

"...In any case, good luck."

Celicia, unsure of what else to say, could only offer an awkwardly hollow encouragement.

"Sigh, lately it's just been one thing after another. I have no idea what's gotten into those dark gods all of a sudden," Hathaway muttered while rubbing her temples in frustration.

Compared to the incident at Bepple Lake’s fishing village, however, there was another unspeakable matter that was even more vexing.

After all, the aftermath of a divine war was always unpredictable. Currently, the entire upper echelon of Belland was on edge.

To make matters worse... the academy this time had been simultaneously invaded by not one but two dark gods working together.

Hathaway couldn’t help but suspect that those dark gods had just attended some kind of get-together and decided to stir up trouble as a group.

"Still, I appreciate that you managed to squeeze out time to visit the academy under such circumstances," Celicia said pointedly.

"A round-trip visit like this must be delaying quite a few other matters, right?"

"Ugh, there wasn't much of a choice. This is my beloved academy, after all. With so much happening here, I felt I had to come take a look," Hathaway said, gazing out the window at a view that had remained undisturbed by the recent chaos. A smile inadvertently crept onto her face.

"That said, I definitely don’t plan on interfering in the academy’s affairs."

At this point, there was a slightly mischievous tone in her voice, as though she could see, through the walls, the chaos wreaked by the Love God and the Moon of Silence incident. Pink Bear and the other professors must now be endlessly harassed by inquiries from every direction, left scrambling and disgruntled.

"Temporarily shedding the responsibilities of the dean… might not be so bad after all?"

...

…

"A holy sword? What holy sword?" Pink Bear slammed his fuzzy paw onto the desk, glaring at the silver-armored knight standing before him.

"If you’re going to make such accusations, you’d better have evidence! Life Church losing a holy sword has nothing to do with Santa Maria College!"

"But…"

The paladin sent from Life Church gritted his teeth. "According to our intelligence, when the Love God manipulated Pure Saintess to invade, she did, in fact, wield our holy sword."

"Intelligence?" Pink Bear widened his round bear eyes in mock exaggeration.

"Santa Maria College follows a strict closed-campus policy. Where exactly did you get your so-called intelligence?"

"I…," the paladin hesitated, his expression stiffening.

"Could it be…," Pink Bear leaned in close, his expression suddenly brimming with intrigue.

"You… were duped by some shady informant, weren’t you?"

"You!" The paladin, now enraged, spat out, "Think carefully about the consequences of your words. That is the holy sword of Life Church!"

"Even if it’s Life Church, you still need to follow the laws," Pink Bear spread his arms, feigning helplessness.

"First you claim you lost a holy sword. Tomorrow you’ll say you lost the Pure Saintess. What’s next? If someday your pope’s underpants go missing, are you going to come blaming Santa Maria College too?"

"You insolent scoundrel! How dare you blaspheme the Great Pope!"

"Hey, don’t twist my words. When did I blaspheme him? Or are you implying that your pope doesn’t wear underpants?"

"You’re courting death!"

The paladin exploded with fury, unsheathing his broadsword and slicing it downward.

To his credit, he retained a sliver of rationality; the blade didn’t actually strike to Pink Bear but instead cleaved Pink Bear’s desk in half—an attempt to teach him a lesson.

Yet despite the fact that only the desk had been harmed, Pink Bear let out an utterly ear-piercing wail.

"Ahh, my desk!"

"What? What’s going on here?"

Professor Gran seemed to have heard the commotion. He barged into the room, followed by a swarm of other teachers.

Scanning the room quickly, Professor Gran’s expression turned to shock. He rushed to Pink Bear’s side, helping him up.

"Dean Pink Bear, are you alright? Did he try to harm you?"

"He didn’t harm me, but my desk…"

"Your desk…?"

It was only now that Professor Gran seemed to realize the desk had been split in two. Feigning astonishment, he exclaimed, "Is this your desk made of some millennia-old-whatever wood, the one as valuable as a holy sword? How could it end up like this?"

"He did it! My desk…"

Pink Bear was utterly inconsolable, clutching one half of the desk as if mourning its loss. His despair was so dramatic you might think he was ready to follow the desk to the grave.

"Outrageous! This is simply outrageous!"

Professor Gran straightened up, his face righteous as he turned to glare at the visibly twitching paladin.

"What crime did our dear Dean Pink Bear commit to warrant such barbaric treatment? That desk was invaluable, his most cherished possession! Even if you’re from Life Church, I demand an explanation!"

"Invaluable? It’s just a stupid desk…"

"Are you seriously desk-shaming right now? When can desks stand tall to reclaim their dignity? I’ll have you know—yes, it’s a desk! And yes, it’s worth a fortune!"

Standing firm, Professor Graham puffed out his chest and declared with indignation, "Every teacher here in this room is a witness. Don’t even think about weaseling your way out of this!"

"You…!" The paladin’s face turned beet red, his chest heaving with barely-contained rage.

As a paladin of Life Church, he had never been humiliated like this before.

An "invaluable desk"? As if! They just want to dodge responsibility for our missing holy sword!

"You’ll pay for this. Mark my words—I’ll be back!"

Seeing no constructive conversation was possible, the paladin threw down a parting threat, spun on his heel, and stomped away.

"Next time, make sure to bring money for a new desk," Professor Gran called after him, grinning smugly.

"Or maybe bring another holy sword when you come!"

The paladin tripped just outside the door but quickly vanished from sight, leaving the group of professors chuckling amongst themselves.

"Honestly, when it comes to dealing with the diehards from the Church, no one handles it quite like you two," a voice rang out, followed by the sound of a cane tapping against the floor as Professor Pulan entered the room.

"It’s not like we had a choice. That ‘certain someone’ ran off with the holy sword and left us to deal with the fallout," Professor Graham said grimly.

"Otherwise, who’d want to get tangled up with Life Church? It’s an absolute pain."

"I'm the unluckiest one, okay?" Pink Bear sighed, pulling a cigar from his maw and lighting it with a dramatic puff.

"I’m just the interim dean, darn it! And yet, for the sake of this academy, I’ve offended so many people recently. What if none of them let their adorable little sisters hang out with me anymore?"

"Who told the academy to put itself right in the eye of the storm these past few days?" Professor Gran sighed again.

Though the dark god invasion was resolved thanks to the actions of that one, the academy had hardly found peace in the aftermath.

The spectacle caused by the Moon of Silence in its final moments had attracted far too much attention. Now, the academy was swarming with individuals supposedly "paying their respects" but in reality intent on uncovering its deepest secrets.

Life Church wasn’t even the worst offender—they just wanted their holy sword back.

The rest of the intruders, however, were out to pry loose every buried secret they could find.

"And so, in the meantime, we’ll continue to count on you, Dean Pink Bear," said Professor Pulan with an uncharacteristically "kind" smile.

"Huh?"

Pink Bear flinched, his cigar falling to the ground. He froze in sheer disbelief.

"It’s not over yet?"

"What are you talking about, Dean? There’s an important meeting waiting for you," Professor Pulan replied casually.

"A meeting? What meeting?"

"A safety hearing initiated by Marquis Kolbert and a consortium of nobles."

"And is this meeting particularly important?"

"Of course. I’m sure you’re well aware, Dean, that a significant portion of our academy’s funding comes from noble donations."

Professor Pulan shot Pink Bear a meaningful look.

"So, if this meeting doesn’t go well…"

"No more cigars or pin-up photos?" Pink Bear asked hesitantly.

"No," Professor Pulan said, his smile suddenly turning icy.

"We’ll start launching a full investigation into your embezzlement of funds."

"After all, every penny matters for the academy in times like these."

"…"

…

…