It was her first real fight, the lesson soaking in like rain into dry earth.

“Damn it!!” Twice tricked by Lucimia, the boy’s anger boiled like a kettle on a red stove.

“I’ll show you the true power of the Deceiver!!” His shout cracked like thunder under a low ceiling.

Her eyes lit like struck flint; wait—was this octopus a Deceiver follower? The prey had walked into the net, saving her the haul.

She’d thought the followers were human; turns out it was a goofy octopus, her expectations crumbling like a sandcastle in a rising tide.

The boy’s body melted like wax in summer sun, revealing his true form—an octopus.

Not the same as the dull one before; bigger, at least half Lucimia’s height. Its hide was yellow-brown, and blue rings banded its skin like tiny halos, recalling the Blue Ringed Octopus from her past life.

That species’ venom surpasses vipers, though they’re coin-small; the one before her loomed like a dockside kraken.

Its blue rings flared like lanterns; eight arms whipped the air, and the suckers sprouted barbs like thorned knives, a garden of fear.

Meanwhile, Lucimia’s thoughts tightened like a fishing line, weighing how to make it help her.

The Blue Ringed Octopus roared like surf; four arms pumped up and down, and it floated midair. The front four lashed, barbs stabbing for Lucimia like hail.

“Wait, I think we’ve got a misunderstanding!” Her voice fluttered like a white flag in wind.

“I won’t listen to you anymore! Die!!” His words sliced like cold iron under moonlight.

With no choice, Lucimia called water into a moon-bright shield before her, calm as a lake.

Shrrrip!

The barbed tentacle touched the shield and slit it open like a blade through silk.

So strong? Shock needled her like sleet finding bare skin.

That first exchange drew a hard line in sand; the gap in power bit like winter air.

Her chest tightened like a knot; she didn’t even know her mage rank.

She’d never trained in a system, and her family hadn’t given her a mentor, those absences hanging like empty hooks.

Her spells were gleaned from pages like fallen leaves; she learned what intrigued her, with no sense of scale, wading by feel in a deep river.

With the shield split, Lucimia slid back like a retreating tide, and wind magic feathered her legs light as dandelion fluff.

The Blue Ringed Octopus hovered like a storm kite, chasing with whipping arms.

Lucimia ducked behind a shelf; the arms hacked it down like reeds, so she slipped behind another, wood splintering like rain.

She wasn’t just running; knowing her magic had odd effects, she tossed water orbs back, and the octopus slashed them apart like bursting soap bubbles.

They chased and fled, a tug-of-war in the cramped bookstore, tides knocking between stacked spines.

Running, she shielded the white flower on her head—Aunt Julie’s gift—its petals trembling like snow on a twig.

“Listen, it’s really a misunderstanding! I’m a follower of Elyssus too!” Her plea rang like a bell in fog.

“You think I’ll believe you? You just killed an octopus, then call me a comrade? Why didn’t you say earlier?” His voice rasped like sandpaper, arms still hacking like scythes.

Fair point. A wry chill crept over her like shade.

Crouching to let another slash pass like wind, Lucimia called out, “Because my Blessing’s in deception. I’ve already tricked you twice—that’s proof. We Deceivers don’t recognize your faction’s look, so misunderstanding’s normal.”

She spun the lie smooth as silk, improvising on the run like a weaver at dusk.

Either he’d pierce it and she’d learn Deceivers knew Deceivers; or he wouldn’t—and that was data too, a net thrown into murky water.

“You’re right.” The octopus halted, rage ebbing like a receding wave.

Lucimia didn’t stop at once; she slid behind a long table, wary of a feint, like a crab hugging rock in surf.

“Am I right? It’s just a misunderstanding.” Her words floated like driftwood.

“But you could be lying now. You already lied twice!” His doubt hung like smoke.

“If I’m lying, doesn’t that prove I’m a Deceiver?” Her logic curled like a serpent biting its tail.

“Makes sense… wait, no—hold on.” He retracted the barbs, and a tentacle stroked his chin, thoughtful as an owl in twilight. He’d suspected she was an Elyssus follower already.

“Don’t think.” Sensing the opening, Lucimia stoked the fire like sunlight through leaves. “I got Elyssus’s Blessing, became a Deceiver, and excel at deceit. You Deceivers excel at disguise; if you’re masked so well even allies can’t tell, that means your disguise is strong. You’re too strong, so I couldn’t spot you.”

Flattery warmed him like sun on scales; he scratched his face with a tentacle, sheepish. “Hehe, no, no. You’re right. We Deceivers—the masquerade kind—keep our identities unknown to Deceivers. Misunderstandings happen.”

Deceiver? A new title; Lucimia tucked the word away like a pressed petal.

Seeing the wind shift in her favor, Lucimia reached for help like a hand toward firelight.

“Yes, since we’re comrades, then—”

“Wait!” The Blue Ringed Octopus cut in, face set like stone. “You’re the young lady of the Lancelot Exorcist Family, right?”

Lucimia swallowed the rest of her words like a pebble caught in her throat.

“If you’re that family’s young lady, then as a Deceiver, how did you dodge their scans? And how did you evade the Church’s Purification?” His questions flew like spears.

“Uh… because I fooled them.” Her voice thinned like mist on a river.

“No. Deceivers can’t evade the Church’s Purification checks; only the masquerade Deceivers can.” His face twisted like a storm cloud, barbs blooming again from the suckers. “You’re lying again! Pretty women are all liars!”

She wanted to argue, the words clustering like swallows; she’d even crafted a story of dodging checks. But explaining would knot future favors, so she let it die like a candle snuffed.

“You’re lying to me! Raaah—!!” His blue rings blazed brighter, and blue-ringed mist drifted out like ghostly halos.

The mist rolled toward Lucimia like low fog. She inhaled a trace; her chest sank heavy as wet wool, and each breath clawed up like a hooked fish.

The mist’s toxic! The thought flashed like lightning.

She wrapped herself in water magic, a glassy cocoon that sealed the poison out like ice over a pond.