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The town of Bamel was in utter chaos.

The city guards had been nearly annihilated. They had been following the governor’s orders, stationed around the town in anticipation of trouble.

When they spotted the criminal group they’d been warned about, they moved quickly to surround them, issuing commands to stand down. But the sorcerer accompanying the main criminal far exceeded their expectations, obliterating everything in their path.

The sorcerer’s magic produced such an intense flash of light that it was visible from within the town.

“This… can’t be…”
“I thought she was dead…”

The soldiers on the scene murmured in disbelief, their voices trembling as though they had seen a ghost. Those who survived the initial blast gave chase, but the criminals proved too fast to catch.

“This is unforgivable! How dare you desecrate her memory by wearing such a disguise!”
“Commander, calm down! Your arm and ribcage are broken!”

The commander, bloodied and battered, was carried away on a stretcher, his body wracked with pain—a testament to the violence of the blast.

Meanwhile, a carriage arrived in town, its passengers unaware of the destruction that had unfolded.

“Mheh, looks like there was some kind of accident,” said the man inside.
“It seems so. What should we do?”
“It’ll be fine. Let’s proceed as planned.”
“Alright, but we should stay cautious.”
“Mhm, thank you,” the man replied, leaning over to kiss his wife.

After their brief exchange, the woman stepped down from the carriage, donned a black robe, and quietly walked past the chaos, heading toward the forest.

“It’s been so long since I’ve strolled through a forest, mheheh,” she mused, a sly smile crossing her lips.

Once inside the mansion, they removed Zahhak from my back and placed me gently on my bed.

“Claire, please, take me to the Young Lady.”
“No. Wait.”
“I’ll give you lots of meat for dinner if you do.”
“…No.”

Clarissa hesitated for a moment, her resolve wavering, but she ultimately refused to give in.

I guess I have no option then.

I tried to move on my own, but she restrained me immediately. Normally, I could match her strength, but with my left arm and both legs detached, I couldn’t even put up a fight.

Still, I didn’t give up easily. I waited, trying to find a moment to slip away, but Clarissa blocked me every time.

“How are you holding up? …Well, judging by that, not very well,” Fan Yen said as she entered the room, her sharp gaze sweeping over me before she shook her head.

“Fan Yen! Is Olivia alright?!”
“You need to calm down first,” she said firmly. “I’m not letting you see her like this.”

Her words hit me like a slap, and I felt my heartbeat slow as despair sank in.

“Please… let me see her. I promise I won’t cause a scene.”

I pressed my forehead to the bed, pleading. Fan Yen sighed softly.

“Fine. But remember, you promised. If you make a mess, I’ll take you away immediately.” Fan Yen picked me up and carried me to Olivia’s room.

When the door opened and I saw Olivia lying on the bed, a scream clawed its way up my throat. I bit my lip hard, forcing it back down, my body trembling as I struggled to contain it.

“I’ve tried both medicine and healing magic,” Fan Yen said quietly, “but all it’s done is help her rest better. I can’t find anything wrong with her body… I don’t know what else to do.”

She set me down in a chair beside the bed.

Olivia’s face was pale, her breath so shallow it was almost imperceptible, as though her life was slipping away with every second.

“Olivia…” I called her name softly, but she didn’t respond.

“Boss…”
“Shaa…”

Clarissa stood nearby, her expression filled with worry. Erika gazed in through the window, but I barely registered their presence. All I could think about was Olivia. A world without Olivia was unimaginable. Seeing her like this made it feel like everything was collapsing around me.

Then, suddenly, Erika perked up and looked around, her movements sharp and alert.

“Shaa.”

“Someone’s coming,” Clarissa translated, her ears twitching as tension filled the air.

Was it them? Were they coming back to finish the job?

Clarissa ran to the window and sniffed the air outside.

“Who is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Familiar smell. Academy.” Without another word, Clarissa leapt out the window and sprinted off.

“What do you think that means?” Fan Yen asked, her voice laced with concern.

“…Could it be…?” Before I could finish my thought, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Moments later, the door creaked open, and she peeked inside.

“Mheh, things don’t look too great here, do they?” Annabelle remarks in her usual tone, her eerie grin as unsettling as ever, dark circles etched beneath her eyes. The only difference is her attire—a black robe draped over a refined dress.

“Miss Annabelle, the Young Lady was cursed, and Ophelia—” I try to explain everything, but my words stumble over each other in a frantic mess.

“One thing at a time. Let’s get your limbs reattached first. You’re not going to get anywhere like this.”

“…Thank you.”

Annabelle gets to work on my legs and arm. As she does, I force myself to calm down, and this time I explain everything more clearly.

“I see. So Dominic is still alive, and he’s the one behind Plum’s fraudulent Sorcery Core.”
“You know him, Miss Annabelle?”
“Yes. He was part of the party back when I became Ophelia’s pupil.”

Annabelle begins to recount Dominic’s history. He had once been in the same adventuring party as Ophelia and Shuma. But his obsession with research drove him to kill another party member. When the others sought revenge, the resulting battle led to the deaths of both Ophelia and Shuma.

“Then… he’s targeting the Young Lady now…”
“He’s probably trying to turn her into crafting materials or ingredients for alchemy,” Annabelle says bluntly.
“Hmph, that’s abhorrent.”

Fan Yen spits her words with contempt, and Annabelle nods in agreement. I feel the same disgust churning in my chest.

“What do you know about the curse?” I ask hopefully.

“Unfortunately, it’s beyond my knowledge. If I knew how to counter it, I would’ve saved Ophelia as well.”

I expected that answer, but it still stings. I’m not the only one who wishes Ophelia was still alive.

I’d already scoured everything Ophelia left behind in the past, but she hadn’t found any record of a curse matching these symptoms. In this world, the line between spells and curses is so blurred that discovering something new feels almost impossible.

“Do you know anything, dragonborn lady?”

Fan Yen considers for a moment before replying, “Spells that sap strength without harming the body to this degree don’t exist in the eastern magic traditions of the dragonborn. This seems closer to the magic used by the inhabitants of the northwestern forests. Something this potent would likely be a secret—or even a taboo—curse. That’s all I know.”

As we discuss the curse, Annabelle continues my repairs. She pours a liquid made of orichalcum and World Tree wood into the hole in my arm. A bright alchemical glow spreads through the damaged area, and when the light fades, my arm looks as good as new.

“There, all done.”
“Thank you so much.”

I stand and flex my arm, testing its movements. Everything responds perfectly, down to the tips of my fingers. My other limbs, including the arm pierced by the stake, are fully reattached and functional as well.

“Well, the next question is how to proceed,” Annabelle says, her tone now serious.

“…She won’t die right away, will she? Ophelia survived for over three years while cursed. We should still have time to find a cure.”

“That’s because Ophelia was only affected indirectly,” Annabelle explains. “Shuma took the brunt of the curse to protect her… and he died within two days.”

I had been clinging to that faint hope, but Annabelle’s words crush it entirely. Even Annabelle seems weighed down by the memory. Her nails dig into her crossed arms, though her expression remains eerily calm.

“At this point, I’d almost consider consulting a demon.”
“…”

Fan Yen’s eyes narrow with visible disdain, her gaze turning away from Annabelle. It’s clear she disapproves, though I can’t tell if it’s for ethical reasons or something deeper.

“A demon…”

Her suggestion sparks an idea. I’d nearly forgotten—it’s still an option.

I press the antler-shaped mark on my shoulder, the pact that binds me to a demon.

“You’re watching, aren’t you, Flute? It’s time to return that favour¹!”
“You don’t need to shout for me to hear you.”

A deep voice responds instantly as my shadow begins to stretch and shift. It rises, forming into a humanoid figure with bat-like wings and deer antlers. Black eyes with blood-red pupils stare out from a blue face, and the figure is clad in an immaculate tuxedo.

“So, it’s finally time.” Flute, the demon butler, grins wickedly. “Just remember—there’s no interest you can claim.”

1. Robinxen: Makes one wonder doesn’t it. If the arm had been retrieved would this incident have been avoided? Or would it have meant there was no lifeline to invoke here? Butterfly stuff and all that.

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