The weight on her chest seemed insignificant during true combat. Only when she came to her senses did that faint warmth of gazes upon her body return.

Tiyi’s slightly trembling hand gripped the sword hilt. That strike might have been overzealous. Yet compared to Yedi’s sword techniques from the past, it still fell far short.

“She just… used one hand?” Lusha stared at the greatsword embedded deep in the ground before Tiyi. “Such a heavy blade—swung so swiftly?”

“Such an unorthodox move, yet executed like flowing water… truly unbelievable.” Philine shook her head in disbelief.

“What a relief… So Miss Tiyi’s swordsmanship is this formidable? Only Lady Dilovei could match such power here,” Joylea murmured, her azure eyes wide. Earlier, Tiyi had seemed tall and seductively alluring—but now, that allure carried a suppressed, potent force like coiled desire.

“Alandiye, how is your magic?” Dilovei had appeared at the training ground’s edge without notice.

“Magic?” Tiyi blinked, momentarily lost. She shook her head slightly. “I don’t… know any.”

“Then starting today, you’ll learn from me.” Dilovei’s gaze settled on the greatsword buried in the stone floor.

“Huh?”

*So soon?*

Revealing her strength to join the trainee witches—and thus qualify for the selection—had been Tiyi’s plan all along. Moreover, having lost her Holy Power and much of her physical strength, learning magic was necessary compensation.

But… *magic*.

Here in this underground sanctuary, witches spoke of it freely. Outside, it was forbidden. Heresy.

Recent years had brought endless calamities to the Empire: plagues, disasters. Life had grown harsher than even during the Holy Demon War. All this was blamed on witches’ curses—on their forbidden power. Magic itself was deemed the source of evil, a blasphemy against the Holy Lord’s grace in this cursed world.

Tiyi had steeled herself for this choice. Yet to begin learning magic now still felt abrupt.

After all, yesterday she’d been the Empire’s most devout Holy Temple Knight.

Dilovei, unaware of this turmoil, didn’t wait for an answer. She turned away. “Follow me.”

“…” Tiyi hesitated but followed, bound by her own scheme.

“Lady Dilovei, what about the sword assessment…?” Qina called out reluctantly.

“Is there any need?” Dilovei glanced back briefly.

Though she hadn’t witnessed the two strikes directly, the shockwaves alone—and the depth of that greatsword in the stone—were proof enough. Among all trainee witches, Tiyi had no equal in swordsmanship.

“Lady Dilovei will personally train her in magic?” Joylea watched their retreating figures, unconsciously clutching Qina’s sleeve.

“Miss Tiyi’s strength… Who exactly did we save? Or… was it merely chance we found her?” Qina’s cheeks flushed faintly.

Dilovei led Tiyi to the cathedral’s center, facing the massive obsidian crystal atop the altar.

“The moonstone’s guidance… as expected. She’s no ordinary girl. A rare swordmaster, too. If only she had even a trace of talent for magic…”

In today’s Empire, a witch without magic was unremarkable.

Disasters and chaos had plunged humanity into darkness. Suspicion toward witches grew fiercer by the day. Women were branded witches for refusing to lend a neighbor a pot, or for speaking oddly. Executions became mere outlets for collective suffering.

Few of the hunted truly wielded magic.

“This enormous black crystal—is it natural? It feels… imbued with unfathomable power,” Tiyi murmured behind Dilovei, her gaze drifting from the moonstone to the silver chalice burning with violet flames before the altar.

*There it is.*

The ring she craved beyond reason.

But Tiyi held back. Instinct and observation agreed: Succubus Selys’s barrier couldn’t be broken by her current strength. Only Black Cat Witch Xialda—or perhaps Dilovei herself—could dispel those violet flames. And they’d grant the ring only to the chosen.

Tiyi steadied her breathing, forcing thoughts of the ring aside. Too much eagerness would seem unnatural.

Her eyes returned to Dilovei.

From behind, the petite witch’s figure was unexpectedly curvaceous. Her hips, in particular, were hardly small.

*Wait…*

*What am I staring at?*

Tiyi banished the impure thought, then found strange comfort in it. *At least my instincts remain male. That means I’m still a man… right?*

“Miss Tiyi? Miss Tiyi?”

“Huh?” Tiyi jolted as she realized Dilovei had turned to face her.

“You seem… prone to distraction?” Dilovei asked.

“Ah, perhaps this place feels surreal on my first visit,” Tiyi offered a weak excuse. Her cheeks burned—she’d never lied before.

“Focus and elemental sensitivity are the twin pillars of magic. Distraction ill suits a witch.”

“Understood. My apologies.” Tiyi bowed her head.

“Before we begin, Miss Tiyi, we perform the master-apprentice initiation.” Dilovei stepped aside. “Face the moonstone. Kneel and pay homage to the Goddess of Night.”

*What?*

Tiyi bit back her protest.

“Step forward. Kneel here. Pray to the Goddess of Night—our protector and guide. Cast aside ambition. Seek true knowledge. Embrace the path of magic.” Dilovei gestured toward the altar’s base.

Tiyi stood frozen. Her body trembled. Her mind felt torn like seas splitting apart.

*Who am I?*

*She was Alandiye.*

*He was Yedi—once a Holy Temple Knight. The Holy Lord’s most faithful servant. The Holy Church’s most pious believer.*

Though that past was irredeemable.

Could she kneel tomorrow—after losing the gods’ grace today—before this heretical sovereign? Before the mighty, enigmatic Goddess of Night? To beg for magic’s corrupting power?

“Miss Tiyi?” Dilovei’s voice sharpened with suspicion.

*No time to hesitate!*

An ordinary witch wouldn’t falter here.

*Decide. Now.*

Tiyi’s chest heaved. Her heart hammered against her ribs, interrogating her will.

*What am I clinging to?*

*Will clinging to this hollow piety—this loyalty no god can hear—restore my honor?*

To lose this last chance for stubborn pride would mean true ruin. Her unjust fall would become eternal shame, erased from history or drowned in disgrace.

Witches were hunted by humans, hated by demons—homeless souls. To discard even this identity meant having nothing left.

*Wouldn’t that be unbearably lonely?*

Tiyi drew a deep, shuddering breath. The obsidian crystal reflected starlight in her eyes.

She stepped forward. Reached the altar.

*If the world calls this wrong, I’ll choose what’s right for me.*

This might not be righteous—but it was the right choice.

Alandiye knelt sincerely before the moonstone, symbol of the Goddess of Night.

*Even if I’m not your follower… I know you’re an Elder Goddess beyond nature’s laws. Kneeling to you makes sense.*

She recalled the witches’ prostration poses—and shame flooded her.

*As a man, I’d never kneel like this, not even to gods.*

But she’d begun. She had to see it through. Avoid suspicion.

Rumors said the Goddess of Night accepted only female devotees, guarding women under night’s veil.

*Then I must kneel like a woman.*

*She’s a goddess. Submitting as a daughter isn’t shameful.*

Tiyi pressed her forehead to her hands on the floor, back arched, hips lifted high behind her—mimicking what she’d seen.

*To borrow power, you must pay a price.*

Yet why did her face burn crimson?

*This isn’t admitting I’m a woman. It’s survival. The only choice.*

*I’ll never accept being female. Never.*

Even if Dilovei witnessed her graceful, devout posture…

*But isn’t every witch like this? Even Dilovei?*

“Huh?”

A faint, sweet fragrance brushed her senses.

Tiyi turned her head sideways while still prostrate.

Dilovei knelt beside her, eyes closed, bowing just as deeply.

Behind them, robed witches gathered silently. More streamed in from the cathedral’s shadows, joining the prayer.

The Underground Witch Church knew no true day or night. Unnoticed, the rose windows’ magical glow faded into darkness. Candles flickered to life around the kneeling women.

Alandiye straightened abruptly. She realized with a start: she knelt at the very front of the assembly.

In the obsidian crystal’s depths, her faint reflection shimmered alone.