The Level 4 concealment magic "Lake’s Ripple," permanently enchanted on the Forest Fey’s Blessed Robe, was undetectable to anyone below the Transcendent realm.

This meant Maur—wearing the robe with the magic active—would remain unseen even standing beside others, so long as he made no sound and avoided physical contact.

If Maur accidentally made noise, Evelyn would swiftly cast a spell to cover for him.

After all, though the Forest Fey enjoyed watching her student’s exceptionally tense expression—the fear of being discovered—

she had no intention of truly exposing him.

If others saw him like this, her dear student would surely be upset.

A little scare was enough.

Who let him claim her skills were worse than swamp monsters?

The Fey teacher had her quirks.

Per plan, she’d share a thrilling, joyful haunted-house adventure with her cute student—just like in a novel.

But an uninvited guest had arrived.

Tentacles surged around Maur’s feet. Tiny mouths sprouted teeth, snapped the binding vines without hesitation, and eagerly coiled in their place.

Before Maur could feel relief at his freed ankles, newer, clingier tentacles bound him tighter.

“Got you,” Mavis chirped gleefully. “Let me guess… who did I catch?”

The tentacles rubbed affectionately against his calves. Some plump little mouths even sprouted tiny tongues… licking him.

Damn it! Mavis *had* to have spotted him! Absolutely!

Her tentacles wouldn’t act this way unless she was certain.

Maur’s face flushed crimson. Short, sharp breaths escaped him.

This was too weird… utterly bizarre!

Evelyn-sensei. Mavis. Though neither looked at the other, Maur felt the air grow strangely tense.

The Forest Fey frowned—a rare sight. “Swamp Behemoth?”

Not confusion over species. A Level 7 Legendary Spellcaster knew far more than humans assumed.

Swamp Behemoths were rare and powerful, yet familiar to her.

What puzzled Evelyn was this one’s excessive attention—and intimacy—toward Maur.

He’d even said her skills were worse than “swamp monsters.”

*Swamp monsters.*

*Swamp Behemoth.*

A Swamp Behemoth who’d taken human female form.

A species fixated solely on breeders… now pouring undivided focus onto one human.

Evelyn: “…”

*I see.*

*A breeder.*

Still crouching before Maur with her back to Mavis, Evelyn abruptly dispelled her invisibility.

In the dim candlelight,

Mavis saw the Fey teacher half-kneeling toward the wall, hands and mouth busy at work.

Mavis’s cheerful smile froze.

Her fists clenched at her sides. Lips pressed tight.

More tentacles slithered from her wide sleeves, surging toward Maur like a tide.

Evelyn flicked a hand.

Ethereal blue flames ignited silently, drawing a line before Maur.

Any tentacle crossing it burst into ash instantly.

Even those already coiled around him glowed red-hot, fell away, and released a savory, oddly appetizing aroma.

“Roasted Swamp Behemoth tentacles enhance human physique,” Evelyn said calmly, levitating the perfectly cooked strands to Maur’s lips with wind magic. “Similar to Roukou Fruit, but longer-lasting.”

She pressed a strand firmly against his mouth. “Go on. Taste it.”

Maur: “…”

Taste?! Like hell he would!

Fruit was one thing—but had his Fey teacher gone *this* perverted?!

Zero interest in such twisted food!

…Wait. What about Mavis?

Adult Swamp Behemoths resisted all magic below Level 4 and had high resistance above it.

But Evelyn was Level 7. Those flames were Level 6 fire magic—“Blazing Inferno.”

Though the Legendary Spellcaster had carefully dialed down the power and precision-targeted the burn…

It was still Level 6. Mavis should be… fine, right?

No—this wasn’t concern!

Mavis was the one Maur had held ten grudges against. Revenge meant nothing if she was crippled beforehand!

So… she *had* to be okay, right?

He glanced up—just catching Mavis’s pale face and sweat-beaded brow—before Evelyn stood, blocking his view.

“Worried, Maur?” Evelyn frowned, untying his vines and pressing his head firmly into her notably ample chest.

“Swamp Behemoths train by enduring high-tier magic. Their resistance grows with each strike.”

“I calibrated the spell exactly to Mavis’s limit. No lasting harm.”

She spoke as if the attack were merely tailored instruction.

“But it *hurts*, Teacher Evelyn~” Mavis’s voice, once crisp, now rasped. “Like my soul’s burning at a thousand degrees… so, so painful, Teacher Evelyn~”

She forced a thin, humorless smile. “You *could’ve* chosen another spell. Picking the most painful one… were you angry I interrupted your date?”

Her trembling voice betrayed real agony—but she pushed on, a rose baring thorns,

willing to wound even at self-cost.

Evelyn turned fully.

Maur, trapped against her chest, struggled uselessly as he was dragged around.

Thankfully, "Lake’s Ripple" still hummed faithfully on his robe—Mavis saw nothing.

“No,” the Forest Fey met Mavis’s gaze squarely. “I’m not angry.”

“No adult gets angry at a child.”

Though Mavis’s human form matched Maur’s age, by Swamp Behemoth reckoning, she was still juvenile—

incapable of reproduction.

“Recall your symbiotic butterfly.” Evelyn plucked a black butterfly from Maur’s collar. “I wasn’t angry before. But follow us again… and I will be.”

—Hostility.

Raw, Level 7 Legendary Spellcaster hostility made Mavis’s body shudder.

*Crossing this Forest Fey… means death.*

Logic screamed: *Run. Leave Maur.*

But her feet stayed rooted.

*She* found him first.

At their very first meeting, *he* reached out.

*“That badge on your chest—Duke Fred’s crest?”*

*“Interesting. Let me see.”*

He’d forcibly touched her tentacle core—disguised as a crest—and handled it freely.

*Maur started it.*

Trembling uncontrollably, Mavis still stepped squarely into Evelyn’s path.

She smoothed her expression. That effortless smile returned.

“Teacher Evelyn… your date ends here today.”

True, she couldn’t win.

But cast aside fear? She had ways to tie this Forest Fey’s hands.

Maur was *hers*.

And she would not let him go.