Cecile stepped out and saw Abathur waiting outside the door.

"Alright, Abathur, show me what new fright you've cooked up this time."

"This way, Witch," Abathur led Cecile down another corridor.

They stopped before a far sturdier door at the corridor's end.

Only after a verification process far more complex than any previous door did it finally open.

Inside was surprisingly simple.

A huge glass case held a white substance floating like dust motes.

It resembled snow fallen from the sky, radiating an eerie beauty.

"What is this?" Cecile leaned close to the glass, peering at it with confusion.

"Angel's Feather," Abathur said, then displayed a panel before her.

As she read, Cecile's calm expression turned to terror, then panic.

Even she felt chilled to the bone by what lay inside.

For the first time, she sensed things beyond her control.

Sure enough, Abathur never failed to surprise her.

"Damn it, what forbidden crap are you messing with!"

Angel's Feather. A synthetic creation purified from True Day Noah's blood during his pathological state.

Confirmed: any being below gods would turn zombie-like upon ingestion.

True death began the moment it was consumed.

Outwardly normal, they could still act—but were essentially dead.

Their free will stripped, they became bound individuals.

Reduced to hosts, they obeyed Angel's Feather's master—True Day Noah—absolutely.

No antidote existed. No spell could cure it. No countermeasures worked.

If True Day Noah died, Angel's Feather would dissipate—and the hosts would perish with it.

"A blessing! God's blessing!" Abathur exclaimed fervently at the sight.

"Angel, fallen, to the mortal realm!"

"Witch, you, need it."

"So? Is there really no fix for this junk? What 'below gods' mean? How'd you test it?" Cecile's hand, about to slap the glass, pulled back.

Per Abathur's description, this was extremely dangerous.

Only True Day Noah could wield Angel's Feather.

Even she, if infected, would become his puppet.

This was far more efficient than her slow scheming.

"Temporarily, no..."

"So, imperfect."

Abathur walked to a wall, unfolded a magical panel, and input commands.

That section slid aside swiftly.

As Cecile marveled at the facility's hidden spaces, she froze at the sight inside the vast room.

She'd never faced such a massive shock.

"Edwina!"

The purple-haired woman, seated cross-legged, opened her eyes. In an instant, she gripped Cecile's shoulders.

Cecile, taller than average, was still a head shorter.

Their faces matched in beauty. Their statuesque figures were equally striking.

Edwina glared down at her traitorous disciple, suppressed fury in her eyes. "Unhappy to see your teacher again? After locking me in this lightless hole so long..."

"Scared witless? Thought I was dead? Greet your teacher properly."

Edwina Von, the previous Pride Witch.

The teacher who trained Cecile as Witch Heir.

Deposed by Cecile after a grave injury, her whereabouts unknown.

In the game's mid-to-late stages, she'd reappear as the Avenger to help defeat the Pride Witch.

Cecile never imagined Edwina had been imprisoned here all along.

With the plot not yet unfolded, she hadn't considered such a presence possible now.

It left her utterly confused.

What was the original Cecile thinking? Handing Edwina to Abathur—a danger to a madman?

This was practically a joke!

Though shocked, Cecile obediently said, "Long time no see, teacher."

*Smack!* A slap landed on her face.

Disbelieving, she covered her cheek and lowered her head.

She hid her pained expression, suppressing the urge to retaliate.

This was her first slap since becoming Pride Witch.

"Sorry, teacher, I was wrong..."

She didn't know how much strength Edwina had regained.

Though the 'Arrogance' Authority was hers now, Edwina remained formidable—capable of challenging her.

Conflict would force her to use the Authority.

Unless necessary, Cecile avoided it; 'Arrogance' clouded judgment.

She wanted no pointless fights now, especially with Edwina—a meaningless, drawn-out battle.

"So obedient? Look up..."

As Cecile raised her head—*Smack!*—another slap hit her other cheek.

"There. Symmetry is more pleasing."

Edwina grabbed Cecile's sleeve and tore it open.

"Converted to God? Wearing such holy clothes... Has no one said you look like an ugly circus monkey?"

"I—" Before Cecile could finish, Edwina threw her to the ground.

Crouching, Edwina pulled a handkerchief from Cecile's pocket, wiped her hands, and tossed it onto her.

"After all this time, still a useless waste... so weak. I thought you'd awakened after taking my place. Turns out you're nothing."

"How could I ever compare to you, teacher..." Cecile's back burned from the fall.

This damn old witch had no restraint.

"Forget it. I knew you were useless, an unworthy witchling." Edwina, heavily influenced by 'Arrogance', assumed Pride had become the weakest of the Seven Witches over time.

Her deposition had been pure opportunism.

This traitor Cecile was mediocre at best.

Besides seizing power when she was weak, she was worthless.

Like how Cecile later scorned Imoxiu in the game's ending.

The arrogant would be consumed by their own arrogance.

"Before you dispose of this useless disciple, teacher, I'd like to introduce your next Witch Heir."

"Hmph. Someone you recommend..."

"See for yourself first. If unsatisfied, we'll talk later."

Cecile hadn't forgotten why she saw Edwina.

She'd asked what tested Angel's Feather—Abathur showed Edwina, unrestricted.

For beings below gods, Edwina was a valid test subject.

Could she truly bear these slaps and throws?

Abathur watched silently until Cecile led Edwina away. Only then did she turn to Angel's Feather.

Pulling up her magical panel, she began the next experiment.

She wasn't interested in their affairs.

Beaten? Teacher and student?

The Witch must have her reasons.

...

When Cecile brought Edwina to True Dawn's door, the sisters inside chatted happily.

"Excuse me. Someone for you to meet," Cecile said.

Her lips moved subtly toward True Dawn.

*Make her pledge allegiance to me.*

The girl tilted her head, understanding but confused.

She pointed at Cecile and whispered to Edwina, "Pledge allegiance to her."

As her sister turned toward Cecile, she yanked a book from under her blanket.

She crossed her index fingers at Cecile.

The meaning was clear.

*Ten more sets of study materials.*

Since this resolved a future threat, Cecile blinked in acknowledgment.

True Dawn smiled brighter.

"Let's go, Edwina."

"Sorry to disturb your reunion. Continue."

Cecile came and left abruptly.

Edwina didn't know why she was brought—or why she obeyed Cecile silently as they left.

She only recalled the blonde girl on the bed whispering, "Pledge allegiance to her."

That phrase echoed in her mind.

Her traitorous disciple's words now felt... impossible to disobey.

She unconsciously followed.

She turned to her disciple.

Cecile had begun smiling—a fake, utterly unfamiliar smile.

"Teacher, did you enjoy hitting me? Isn't it my turn now?"