Allow me to formally introduce Miss Raven Segrito, the youngest daughter of the fading Segrito nobility, a lantern guttering in a draft.

A cute girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, sunlight on an alpine lake.

Forget titles and trophies for now; she’s my current target to court, a paper boat on fast water.

Our relationship… it’s worse than strangers, like winter wind straight to the bones.

Proof? When she came to visit Stini, she never looked my way, as if I were dust in a beam.

“Is Stini okay? I heard you were badly hurt. Ah, I bought a bottle of HolyWater, nothing fancy, but I hope you get well soon,” she said, voice like a cool stream.

“Ahaha, don’t worry. About thirty percent of my mana circuits snapped, my organs feel rotten, bones screaming, muscles weeping,” Stini chimed, smiling through stormlight.

“And I just had a joint-lock war on the bed with Andor, ahaha, recovery will take forever,” she added, laughter like bells dropped on stone.

Stini stuck out her cute tongue and tossed me a sultry wink, a cat flicking its tail.

At the same time, Raven hit me with a scum-level cold stare, a blade rimed in frost.

She’s a gentle soul by nature, spring rain on clay, yet she seems to hate me like smoke in the eyes.

I could almost hear a celestial UI from nowhere: “Affection -30~,” a red bar draining like blood from a cut.

Maybe I should change faces and start a new run, a snake shedding skin under moonlight.

Raven turned her chair and glared at me; I’ve never gotten anything warmer, thunderheads rolling over a plain.

She looks annoyed at everyone, a fox guarding her den, but with me it’s outright malice, flint striking steel.

I’ll step out, swap my face with a spell, and apply to the Hero Academy again, a moth aiming for a new lamp.

“Andor, I know you and Stini are lovers, right?” she said, voice like ice beads on bamboo.

No. Absolutely not, a drumbeat on a bare field.

“But Stini’s seriously injured, and you were… unclear. Do you really have to do that now?” she pressed, a hawk shadow over grass.

Huge misunderstanding, thunder without rain.

“I…” Raven blushed. “I think young people having desire is normal, spring sap rising in trees. But control your timing and your measure.”

“At least now, healing should come first, not indulgence,” she finished, a temple bell tolling restraint.

Wronged… but fine. Arguing is pointless, rattling a dry gourd.

I’ve already decided to change faces later, like a hermit discarding an old robe.

Raven turned back and started peeling an apple for Stini, knife flickering like a crescent moon.

I don’t envy the apple, sweet dew on tongues; I envy Raven’s affection points, gold coins clinking in another’s purse.

I need to push back a little, a reed against a tide. It’s not jealousy, not at all, I swear by my father’s name, a seal in wax.

I mouthed “assist” at Stini, a silent banner in wind.

She gave me a cute blink, a star winking at dusk.

So your wings have hardened, little bird, feathers catching sun.

I switched my mouth to “debt,” a rope coiled on the dock.

Stini changed course at once, sails turning toward a cleaner wind.

“Ah, Raven, Andor and I aren’t lovers,” she said, voice like a clear bell in fog.

“Or rather, we just met, but we clicked fast, fireflies finding each other.”

Good, good, maybe I won’t have to delete my account and reroll, a gambler palming the last coin.

“Andor likes you. Love at first sight,” she added, a stone tossed straight across water.

“You know my personality—so I often mess around. Hehe, sorry,” she finished, mischief like foxfire.

Nice, a clean fastball; for a romance route, that’s a solid seven out of ten, a neat throw over home plate.

I expect Raven to go “Ah, that won’t do,” then flee with a crimson face, steam rising from a kettle.

So the result is—

“D-Do you, you piece of trash, want a threesome?” she burst, lightning on a dry tree.

I knew it: the worst outcome, crows lifting off a barren field.

She covered her crimson face, forgot I’m injured, and slapped me, a palm like a falling fan.

I didn’t say anything, yet took the hit—unfair, a judge asleep at the bench.

At least save this for after a grope charge, a penalty after crossing a line.

“Um, I…” I began, voice a cracked reed.

“No, no, don’t explain. I already know what you are,” Raven snapped, a seal pressed into wet clay.

“Stini, don’t get tricked by this type. His words are all lies,” she warned, lantern light turning blue.

“Like borrowing money, but it’s actually loan sharking; saying it’s for your good, but aiming at your house,” she rattled off, stones thrown at crows.

“Dump him fast,” she concluded, a sword laid across a mat.

Raven pointed right at my face, a rude brush poking an ink-stone.

Stini could only offer a wry smile, a ripple stuck in glass.

“Raven, actually, Andor—” Stini tried, voice a thread through needles.

“You’re still speaking for him? Have you been trained? Been xx’d? Been @#$%’d?” Raven blazed, fireworks in a tight alley.

“Was your duel with Andor a bid to escape his clutches?” she charged, a net thrown over a stag.

“It’s okay. You’ve tried hard. I’ll save you. Leave the rest to me,” she vowed, a banner lifting in wind.

Raven hugged Stini tight and started killing me with her eyes, tiger stripes in shade.

Stini’s freshly set ribs popped with wrong sounds, popcorn at the wrong festival.

Her face slid toward bliss and agony at once, a peach dropped into brine.

She’s not reliable right now, a bowstring frayed by rain.

Sigh. I haven’t done anything—at least by the current setting, a script still in draft.

Not good, a black kite circling.

Constructs began to fly out from under Raven’s skirt, shadows with clockwork wings.

A high-year student from the Magitech Department like her can make Constructs with real bite, iron bees full of sting.

And Stini is among the best, a forge’s favored hammer.

Crap, crap. I’m not afraid she’ll kill me, a stone under a waterfall.

But I can barely move; resisting will make the injuries worse, a cracked cup under hot tea.

What do I do, a boat in whirlpools?

“Hey, hey, you’re not serious, right?” I pleaded, a hand up against hail.

Damn it. Under Raven’s absolute-zero gaze, a swarm of bee-type Constructs closed on my crotch, thunder on a small hill.

I dragged my half-dead body backward, a tortoise hauling a shell.

Back against the wall, cold brick like an old mountain.

“Um, Miss Raven…” I tried, a reed whispering to stone.

Her cold didn’t thaw an inch, polar night on black ice.

The first Construct landed on my pants, legs like needles tapping cloth.

Just then, her hand swept down, a judge’s hammer poised—

“I adore masters who flirt with flowers,” Vega sang, steam curling from the door like morning fog.

“For bone recovery, how about piranha soup tailored for you?” she offered, a silver pot breathing.

“Miss Stini, would you like some too… Ah, it’s Miss Raven. You’re here to see Miss Stini or my useless master?” Vega asked, smile like a lace fan.

The Constructs hid under my bed the instant Vega opened the door, mice vanishing under planks.

Terrifying. Imagine sleeping on a nail-bed that can spring at any time, a hedgehog under quilts.

Ah, though the nails can’t pierce my skin, a turtle shell under straw.

“Ah, mm-hmm, yes, I’m here for Stini. And Vega, don’t call me ‘Miss.’ Just use my name,” Raven said, a willow bending.

“That won’t do. A maid’s etiquette includes respectful address,” Vega replied, a ribbon tied with care.

“Speaking of etiquette…” Raven set down the now-white-eyed Stini and stroked her chin, moon tracing water.

“You just called this scum ‘Master’?” she asked, a thorn pricking silk.

“Yes. No matter how disgusting, he is my master,” Vega said, blossom smiling over hidden thorns.

She called me disgusting! If not for character traits, I’d have decked you, thunder behind a painted fan.

They were chatting so happily, sparrows trading seeds; maybe I should cut in, a crow clearing its throat.

“Ah, um—” I tried, a pebble tapping a drum.

“Shut up!” “Please close your mouth,” they chorused, twin blades flashing.

Okay… I’ll change faces and reroll, a cicada leaving its husk.

But they seem familiar, old foxes sharing trails. What’s going on, mist crossing bridges?

They chatted a bit more. Seeing Vega holding a pot of soup, Raven didn’t want it wasted, rain redirected to thirsty soil.

So she prepared to leave, letting Vega feed me and Stini, ladle moonlight into bowls.

Before she went, she looked at my “whatever, let the world end” face, a defeated kite on a fence.

“If you truly like Stini, take responsibility to the end,” she said, a sword slipping back into its sheath.

“She’s a good girl. If you dare betray her—” Raven paused, wind sharpening to a point.

You’ll die by my hand, an unsheathed promise.

I didn’t hear the last word, but her back radiated a menacing aura like storm qi, cranes lifting before lightning.

A future “Maker”’s threat… that’s not a joke, not a banner dipped in tea.

But I had more urgent questions. When Vega tilted in beside me, I whispered, a reed to a lotus.

“When did you get so close to Raven?” I asked, a moth to a lamp.

“Well,” she said, dimples flowering like spring peonies, to me terrifying as masks in moonlight.

“I always feel my foolish master is unreliable,” she went on, silk hiding steel.

“So while you played with the Hero, I deliberately approached her,” Vega said, a cat padding on temple tiles.

“I told her directly: ‘Senpai, I admire you. Will you be my friend?’ and that brought me to Miss Raven,” she finished, an arrow straight to the mark.

That straight ball… the effect is staggering, a bell shaking a hall.

Teach me, please. Also, help me get linked to Raven, threads through a loom.

And… Miss Vega, I’m really not slacking, a worker ant under rain.

So don’t hold a grudge, okay, clouds parting for a plea.

Please stop looking at me with that ultimate contempt, a chill moon staring down a lone road.

Not everyone works as efficiently as you, clocks drumming in perfect time.