This time, I understood.

Camilla felt her body floating faintly. She forced her eyes open—both arms and legs intact, mind unscorched by the Spellbreaker. "...Huh?"

"We meet again, Master Camilla." Lenna bent down, gripping Camilla’s hand to pull her up. "Last time was payment for your arrogance. Today, you trespass in my home. What did you hope to achieve?"

Lenna truly excelled at twisting blame.

Camilla gaped, utterly speechless.

Her mouth stammered single syllables: "Ah... you... I..."

"Heh heh... Forgotten me already?" Lenna’s laugh was light, mocking. "I thought death would teach you better. Yet your innate stupidity outlasts even oblivion. But of course—a noble like you wouldn’t remember a nobody like me."

She’d already extracted Camilla’s full profile from Angela.

*Camilla Goldfry. Scion of the Empire’s covert assassin clan. Her kin—all rare Shadowstalker class—vanished like mist, striking unseen.*

To think such a prize would bite so soon after her rebirth. An unplanned windfall.

"Lenna Falmouth!" Camilla finally spat the name, stumbling backward.

Lenna covered her mouth, giggling. "Ah, recognition at last..."

"Bulldozer!" Camilla jabbed a trembling finger at her nose. "You roasted me alive! I should ask *your* intentions!"

"Tsk. How rude."

Lenna flicked her eyes. Spellbreaker Kevin stepped forward. Blue flames danced in his hollow jaw, dripping through bone gaps to sizzle on the grass.

*Hssss—*

Necromantic corrosion fused with the Spellbreaker’s anti-magic essence. Instantly, the lawn beneath them withered.

Ashen gray.

Vibrant green bled into an endless wasteland.

Her gray robes stirred without wind—a breathtaking, terrifying silhouette seared into Camilla’s mind before darkness swallowed her.

Camilla died again.

Confused. Clueless. Unaware of her crime.

Lenna’s second resurrection flowed smoother than the first. She treated Camilla like a lab guinea pig, hurling necromantic spells without care for his limits.

*He won’t stay dead. I’ll just revive him.*

Bolstered by Spectral Power, Lenna defied all restrictions. *Raise Dead* became her tool to trample life itself.

"Enough...! Kill me! Finish it!"

On the thirty-second revival, Camilla’s eyes burned crimson. Pain shattered his sanity. He clawed desperately for escape from this cycle.

Hate had curdled to murder-lust, then terror, then hollow pleas, and finally—numb exhaustion.

He’d never imagined Lenna would dare touch him. He was a favored Goldfry heir...

"I dislike repeating myself. Learn faster."

Lenna flicked her fingers. Camilla’s heart stopped.

Beneath her unfurled Necropolis, even sunlight dimmed—perfect for necromancy.

Her spine snapped straight. Camilla gasped awake, teetering on collapse. "Let me go... I’ll give you anything. Anything you want..."

"Oh? Where’s your noble pride?" Lenna’s smirk was icy. She signaled Kevin to intensify the psychic assault. "Your leverage means nothing. Killing you changes nothing."

"Then what do you *want*? Gahhh—!"

Camilla crumpled. Lenna was invincible. His earlier arrogance felt like a fever dream.

*Against absolute power, schemes are dust.*

Especially with a Spellbreaker skeleton looming.

"Take it all! Spare me! The Goldfry Clan will serve the Falmore Family forever—"

"Serve the Falmore Family?" Lenna tilted her head, pleased. "An intriguing offer."

"But it’s too slow. I won’t wait."

"Interest! I’ll assassinate for you!" Camilla seized the lifeline. Survival demanded every resource—even his birthright as second son. "I command all Shadowstalkers below tier-four! I’ll erase anyone hindering your House. No traces. Ever."

"A tempting proposal." Lenna’s eyes narrowed, intrigued. "Tell me—truly *anyone*? No matter their status? No matter the fallout?"

Her smile was beautiful. Chilling.

Camilla, the playboy heir, felt pure terror. "Y-you... who do you want dead?"

"You just said it. Anyone hindering the Falmore Family."

"......"

Camilla’s eyes widened.

Suddenly—he understood.

*Recruiting allies is exhausting.*

In her past life, she’d soloed everything. Annoy someone? Send six tier-six skeletons to slaughter their household. Revenge served fresh—no brainpower needed.

Taming the Shadowstalkers drained her more than any battle.

Her brain cells were bankrupt. She needed sweet, soft maidens to recharge. *Ah... Angela...*

During Magical Theory lecture, Lenna propped her chin on pale hands, fighting sleep. The guest professor—a famously gentle beauty—lectured on:

"Spell frameworks manifest magic. Channel mana through them. Guided by the caster, they heal wounds or shatter fortresses. Turn despair to victory. Cheat death itself. Magic underpins every power system in this world—" She paused. "That student? Someone wake her up."

Lenna heard the call through drowsy haze.

Eyes stayed shut.

She raised a limp hand to signal she was listening.

The professor clicked over in heels, leaning down. "Stand up if you’re tired. This lesson is vital. Exam material."

"......"

Ignored.

Lenna’s face pressed flat against the desk. Zero respect for the "kindhearted" professor’s reputation.

The woman froze, cheeks flushing, trapped in awkward silence.