“Lord Maur, isn’t this behavior of yours far too impolite!?”

The white-robed priest shoved aside by Maur appeared to be in his fifties—though priests of the Luminous Temple typically looked younger than their true age. Maur had reason to suspect he was at least sixty or seventy.

Yet remaining an ordinary priest at that age likely meant he truly lacked talent.

His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Maur.

“What you’re doing shames Lady Athena, blessed by the Light! You’re utterly tarnishing her reputation!”

In truth, Athena had never joined the Church of Light—she held no formal ties to it. She merely visited its archives to study, as they housed rich magical tomes. After all, born with innate affinity for light elements, Luminous Temple spells suited her perfectly.

But precisely because of this gift—and the widely known legend of the Twelve Angelic Blessings—the Temple declared her their prophesied Holy Maiden of Light.

Her Majesty, Empress of the Somaria Empire, repeatedly rejected this claim and refused to acknowledge it. Undeterred, the Luminous Temple relocated its headquarters to the Royal Capital, clearly intending to stay for her sake.

All for the Holy Maiden of Light.

Yet Athena seemed neither pleased nor moved.

“The Luminous Temple’s spells are useful,” was her sole remark. “Naturally, other temples’ spells are decent too.”

She saw nothing special in them.

Still, the priests remained unwavering: Athena was their great, sole, inviolable Holy Maiden of Light—the Temple’s divine revelation, the God of Light’s earthly incarnation.

And Maur, her fiancé? A blasphemous eyesore. Utterly unworthy.

The priest regarded him with anguish, as if staring at filth.

“Huh?” Maur didn’t spare him a glance. “I’ve always been like this. Didn’t you know? Even if I shamed Athena, *she* hasn’t complained. What gives *you* the right to scold me?”

He wasn’t the first to accuse Maur of arrogance. Many nobles had spat similar words after being taught a lesson.

Nothing changed.

Maur remained Athena’s fiancé—and he’d use that status to live happily. Athena had even said: *“As long as you’re happy, do as you please.”*

If not for her destined role as the game’s female lead—the protagonist’s official partner—Maur would’ve called her the perfect fiancée.

But knowing fate’s script? He felt no attachment. Without this title, he was still the young master of Violet House, free to return home.

*As long as the female lead stops getting in my way.*

“Go ahead—have Athena annul our engagement.”

If the Temple priests could actually do it? Maur would be thrilled.

Obviously, they couldn’t.

“Enough. Stand there quietly and perform the blessing. Don’t waste my time.”

Though Maur’s interruption cost the priest face, the man merely stood behind him, silent and cold-faced—tacitly accepting Maur’s takeover, resigning himself to being a blessing tool.

*…As a priest of the Luminous Temple, he must show minimal respect to the Holy Maiden’s fiancé. If rumors spread of discord, she’d grow even more distant.*

“All new students—up for the blessing! Stop dawdling. Move!” Maur barked impatiently.

His arrogant reputation would surely climb another notch after today’s ceremony. He didn’t care.

With the priest silent, the students approached the podium, faces etched with shock and fear. They lined up before Maur as if *he* bestowed the blessing.

Arms crossed, brow furrowed, Maur watched them pass through the priest’s “Gate of Holy Light” blessing.

Nothing unusual.

No anomaly.

This one neither.

One by one, Imperial Grace Academy freshmen in uniform walked under the holy light—utterly ordinary. A few had decent looks (mostly nobles from distant regions), but most were plainly common-born.

*Divine Grace Academy admits talented commoners via exams; nobles enroll by birthright.*

Standard game logic? The female lead was almost certainly a commoner—class-divided from nobility. Even if noble, she’d be from a fallen minor house, near-indistinguishable from peasants. *Prince and Cinderella romance.*

Yet the game called her “Witch of the Black Dragon”—hinting at a special identity.

Maur knew: the Black Dragon symbolized calamity. Its appearance meant world-ending crisis.

*Does she carry a dark aura detectable by holy light? Or just a “calamity buff,” triggering disasters around her? Or the classic trope: ordinary at first, hidden depths later?*

…Too many possibilities. Less than three months left.

Just thinking made Maur’s mood darker.

He fixed the line with a death glare. Students kept heads bowed, trembling.

Only the last remained.

Maur’s gaze locked onto her.

She froze before the Gate of Holy Light, shaking, too terrified to step through.

“Stop wasting time! Go!”

Maur had already given up hope. *Maybe “Witch of the Black Dragon” doesn’t mean dark aura. Or ordinary holy light can’t detect it.*

*Athena could. Her eyes pierce any magic below Level 6…*

NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!

*This would be pure suicide!*

Athena was convenient—magic, swordsmanship, anything—but triggering her route with the female lead meant instant bad ending.

*Annoying.*

He’d have to investigate all freshmen himself. His scowl deepened at the looming workload.

The last student saw his expression—and shrieked.

“Eep! I’m sorry, I won’t dare again!”

She bolted off the stage, abandoning the blessing. *Guilty conscience.*

“You dare run!?”

Maur lunged, pinning her to the floor.

“Why run? Hiding something shameful?”

*Could this timid girl be the female lead?*

“Priest! Cast Holy Light on her!”

If she was the lead… even basic holy light might reveal something.

“Eep! No, please stop…” Her cries were pitiful, but Maur’s face stayed cold.

The priest, thinking of his revered Holy Maiden, raised a hand expressionlessly.

“Holy Light.”

Pure white light enveloped Maur and the pinned student.

“Eep!”

She let out a whimper—and transformed before his eyes.

Crimson eyes shimmering with tears, tiny hearts circling her irises.

Voluptuous, soft curves everywhere.

Completely naked.

*A monster.*

Of course—the freshman was a disguised monster. Illusionary appearance, illusionary clothes. Holy Light shattered both.

Maur’s body shielded her from public exposure, buying time to weave new clothes.

But the creature—tiny horns, bat-like black wings, slender tail tipped with a pink heart—was too terrified to cast. Tail quivering, she trembled violently.

“W-wha… I’ve been discovered! Belotti’s going to be eaten!”

“A succubus.”

Lilith leaped between Maur and the naked, trembling succubus, face stern.

“A succubus among freshmen… highly unusual.” Her voice was ice-cold. “But how much longer will you pin her down, Maur?”

She unfastened her cloak, tossed it backward to cover both.

“And you—succubus! Even as one, hurry up and reconstruct some clothes!”