That night, Enid got ready for her usual dorm checks and patrol.

  Now that Nino was officially a TA and working with her, he handled roll call for the men’s dorms. Enid only needed to check the women’s side.

  It saved everyone a lot of trauma.

  If Enid suddenly appeared in the men’s dorm common lounge the way she used to, and happened to catch a bunch of Nature students half-dressed and play-wrestling as “friendly bonding,” it would be a jump scare for her and for them.

  Not long after, Nino met Enid at the dormitory gate. They confirmed the headcount was correct, exchanged good nights, then split up.

  Then it was Enid’s turn to patrol.

  For her, patrol was simple. She opened her elemental senses, took a loop around the Nature school, and made sure nothing felt off.

  Enid thought tonight would be quiet too.

  Then she felt it.

  Something shifted in the distance, sharp and wrong. Through elemental feedback alone, she could tell two people were fighting hard, and one of them was very likely Rosalie.

  Enid formed a small bird out of elemental mana and sent it toward the academy security office with a message.

  She went ahead first, racing straight for the scene.

  Meanwhile, at the location of the fight.

  It was an open stretch of land, closer to the Divine Arts school, though still a good distance away.

  Rosalie had just finished his prayers at the cathedral when a sense of dread started prickling at him from somewhere nearby. He decided to check it himself.

  The moment Rosalie arrived, a shadow in black lunged at him from behind.

  Rosalie’s combat instincts saved his life.

  He sensed the strike at the last second, dropped low, then kicked back with all his strength.

  His heel slammed into the attacker’s stomach. The figure flew backward, and Rosalie sprang away in the same motion.

  He landed, squared his stance, and used magic to form a holy sword in his hand.

  He had barely turned his gaze back toward the attacker when he felt three more enemies rushing in from different angles.

  Rosalie reacted instantly.

  Just as three daggers were about to reach him, he pushed off hard with his back foot and shifted his body, slipping out of range by a hair.

  Then he twisted from the waist, redirected his blade, and unleashed a powerful horizontal sweep.

  In one stroke, he cut all three attackers cleanly in half.

  It happened in a blink, proof of Rosalie’s monster-level instincts and strength.

  The severed bodies vanished with the wind.

  They were nothing but mana-made phantoms.

  "Heh heh heh… what a lively offering," a voice said, amused. "Even better than I expected."

  Rosalie looked toward the sound.

  A man stood there in a black formal suit, draped in a hooded cloak. An elegant, unsettling mask covered his face, half laughing and half crying.

  He clapped slowly, steadily, as he spoke.

  Rosalie held himself as if relaxed, but his posture was coiled and ready. He answered in a joking tone.

  "Well, thanks. Compliments always brighten the day, even when they come from an enemy. But…"

  Rosalie tightened his grip on the hilt. His sword tip leveled at the man, his expression turning cold, killing intent bleeding through.

  "I don’t know who you are, but the mark you’re wearing looks a lot like the one carved into that monster. So you’re the one who tried to attack me and Innis last time, aren’t you"

  The man let out a thin, eerie laugh.

  "Heh heh… exactly…"

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  He didn’t get to finish.

  Rosalie flashed forward, appearing right in front of him, and his holy sword swung down.

  The man was ready.

  Two short blades snapped up to block, catching Rosalie’s strike. Steel locked against light, and the two of them strained in place, force against force.

  "Great, you admitted it," Rosalie said, grin sharp. "Then get ready to take a beating. Don’t worry, I’m merciful, I’ll end it in one clean moment."

  The man’s voice stayed calm.

  "So confident. Unfortunately…"

  Rosalie shifted his sword, knocked the short blades aside, corrected the angle, and drove the tip straight in.

  It was a vicious thrust, the kind that caught opponents in a split-second lapse and skewered them before they understood what happened.

  Rosalie thought he had him.

  Then pain exploded through his back.

  It hit like lightning, tearing through his body so fast his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

  Rosalie twisted his head in disbelief.

  The masked man was behind him.

  A short blade wrapped in dark, twisted power had pierced through Rosalie’s back and come out near his chest.

  Cold sweat seeped from Rosalie’s forehead.

  "When…" he rasped, voice trembling with disbelief and fury.

  The man didn’t answer.

  He simply stood there, silent and unmoved, like a statue.

  Rosalie felt the corrupt aura on the blade gnawing at his spirit, chewing at his mind and awareness.

  He couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

  He sagged, then fell.

  He heard faint footsteps as the shadow retreated. The world dimmed, sinking toward black, and the last thing that stayed vivid was the pain of being run through.

  The man wiped his dagger and muttered to himself.

  "Hm. Not that troublesome. Next…"

  He didn’t get to continue.

  A powerful attack sliced toward him, a wind blade so sharp it didn’t need to be seen.

  Invisible, colorless, and absolutely lethal.

  The kind of wind-element spell only a mid-tier or higher nature mage could use.

  The masked man barely dodged the first strike.

  A second wind blade followed, then a third, forcing him to hop backward again and again until he finally retreated to a safer distance.

  That was when he saw the white-haired mage attacking him.

  Professor Innis.

  Moonlight spilled over the courtyard like silver gauze, outlining the elf mage in a pale, dreamlike glow.

  Enid stood there in silence, her features calm and cool, like a distant star hanging in the night.

  Yet beneath that breathtaking beauty, something colder seeped through, a killing intent sharp enough to make the air feel thin.

  Her expression barely changed, but the danger in it was unmistakable, like a blade that would fall the moment anything twitched.

  Under the moon, Enid’s beauty and her murderous aura fused into a single, unnerving presence.

  The man had the strange feeling that anyone who stepped close would be drawn in by her looks first, then feel that killing intent and suddenly remember what fear tasted like.

  Enid moved at once, crossing the distance to Rosalie, who lay in a pool of blood with no clear sign of life.

  Without a word, she cast a water-element barrier around Rosalie, quick and clean, sealing the area in protection.

  The man watched her, one hand pressed to his own wound, and spoke as if they were meeting at a party.

  "Hah… terrifying technique. What a lovely night, my lady. Forgive my boldness, but would you allow me to invite you to admire the moon with me"

  Enid kept casting through the ache of the curse inside her, her voice even.

  "Of course, mysterious sir, as long as you’ll let me tidy up your appearance with a little magic first. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick."

  The man burst into laughter.

  "Hahaha. What a humorous lady. I’d love to say yes, but for the sake of my fragile life, I’ll have to decline."

  Enid answered with action.

  A lightning spear snapped toward him.

  He slipped aside easily, and kept talking as if he had all the time in the world.

  "My, my. So passionate. I can’t say I dislike it… but the offering isn’t worth this much trouble. Trading blows with what looks like an arch-level nature mage doesn’t fit my operating principles, so please allow me to take my leave… hm"

  He froze mid-step.

  His legs had been sealed in ice without him noticing, locked to the ground so tightly he couldn’t move.

  Only then did he realize he’d been played.

  Enid had one palm pressed to the earth, continuously channeling ice magic.

  Invisible frost had crept along the ground and reached him, then in the instant his attention slipped, it flash-froze his lower body.

  It was a ninth-circle spell Enid had named Frost Hell, a terrifying piece of nature magic that quietly rewrote the surrounding terrain into an ice element domain only she could command.

  "If you don’t want your legs to turn into shattered ice," Enid said, voice calm and cold, "I suggest you stay right where you are and wait for security. We have a lot of questions for you."

  The man gave a sly, unpleasant chuckle.

  "Heh. I couldn’t possibly accept that. Luckily, I came prepared, Professor Innis. With tricks like this, you won’t catch me."

  Before Enid could react, his body swelled outward.

  Then it exploded.

  There was no blood, no flesh.

  Only confetti and candy burst outward, scattering across the ground.

  It was obvious now, what Enid had restrained was only a puppet body.

  As if to confirm it, his voice drifted from the darkness at a distance.

  "A delightful meeting. You may call me Mr. Q. I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me."

  Then Mr. Q vanished into the night.

  With Rosalie’s divine power spilling out and agitating the curse inside her, Enid couldn’t extend her senses far enough to track where Mr. Q escaped.

  She didn’t waste time trying.

  A professor put student safety first, chasing Mr. Q while leaving Rosalie bleeding out was not an option.

  Enid pulled open Rosalie’s upper clothing, ready to apply a recovery potion to the wound.

  That was when she saw it.

  A faint glow, weak but intensely bright, was shining from Rosalie’s chest.

  The light intensified, flooding the area in a heartbeat.

  A pillar of radiance rose upward, illuminating the night from the ground up.

  A surge of pure holy mana erupted from Rosalie’s chest, washing over the injury, knitting flesh together, and driving out the dark, warped taint clinging to him.

  Standing close, Enid could feel that divine power scorching her ancient twisted curse.

  Pain flared through her hard enough to draw a sheen of cold sweat across her skin.

  Then Enid noticed a strange mark forming on Rosalie’s forehead.

  His entire presence shifted, settling into something quiet, sacred, and unnervingly serene.

  When academy security arrived and saw Rosalie glowing, they froze.

  Weapons lowered.

  In the next breath, they dropped to their knees and began to pray.

  Enid caught their words, spoken with the fervor of Holy Church believers.

  "The Holy Pontiff has carried our Lord’s gospel and will to the world, the Holy Spirit has delivered its revelation. The chosen Hero has finally been born, and will drive out every enemy of darkness."