Ludmint raised her wine glass and, after swirling the red wine, drank it in one gulp. She put the glass on her coffee table and leaned on her sofa, frowning. Her assistant remarked nothing; she merely poured more wine for her boss while wondering whether something major had happened.

As Ludmint was about to drown herself in another glass of wine, the door into her room swung open. Cilvia skipped to Ludmint, sat beside her, and winked at the assistant, who quietly left the room. With no one to interrupt her, Cilvia playfully leaned on Ludmint’s shoulder.

“You’ve gotten much more daring,” Ludmint said.

“I learned that I have to seize the opportunity, or it will escape me.”

“She must’ve flipped your switch.”

“She ignited my spirit. What a lovely girl she is.” Cilvia peeked at Ludmint. “If you two fight, you can stay at my place. I won’t mistreat you.”

Ludmint turned to Cilvia, whose eyes glittered like the northern star. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“Punish me if you’re angry.”

“I’m not, but she might be. You do not want her angry.”

Cilvia pouted. “What about me? Could you please look at my hurt feeling?”

“She’s my fiancée. You’re not.”

“I could be.” Cilvia grasped her shirt’s collar and tugged it down. She squeezed her body against Ludmint’s shoulder, nuzzling.

Smirking, Ludmint wrapped her arm around Cilvia’s wrist, pulled her in, and moved forward. She pushed her lovestruck colleague, who fell on the sofa, and lay on top of her. Her adventurous hands felt the smooth skin, caressing her back muscles.

Their chests pressed against each other, their faces touching. They breathed the same hot air while staring at their own reflections in one another’s eyes.

Her cheeks pink, Cilvia pursed her lips and averted her gaze. She shut her eyes, trembling. Her heart violently shook as if experiencing a heart attack. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t think Ludmint would be so aggressive, too aggressive!

“I . . . We . . .” She wanted to speak, but the tightness in her chest prevented her.

“Don’t take the risk you can’t handle.” Ludmint licked Cilvia’s tear and got up. “There’s still much to learn.”

After wiping her face, Cilvia regulated her breathing and sat straight. She no longer seduced Ludmint, though her mind couldn’t move on from her prior attempt.

“A glass of wine?” Ludmint said. “You never come here without a purpose.”

“Is spending time with you not a purpose.”

Ludmint giggled. Her lovely voice persisted in this silent room, isolated from the outside. Cilvia shivered; her gradually calming heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, Ludmint . . . . the glass wall, people below will see us!”

“One-way glass wall. Only we can see them. Don’t you think it’s exciting?” Ludmint smirked and then stiffened her smile.

She stood up, walked to stand near the glass wall, and looked at her subordinates. They were examining large monoliths on which engraved the core section of Evil Punisher Grand Formation.

Groups of researchers and engineers shuffled between rows of black columns, which formed a maze of intricate circuits. Each person occupied a small part of the whole, fixing real-time problems and modifying the formation to suit the situation.

To ensure The Grand Formation operated satisfactorily, Ludmint instructed everyone under her to manage the maze.

Yet her effort failed to stop the inevitable.

On the surface of the black monoliths, golden lines flickered, turned crimson, and spread across sections of the maze. Smokes gushed out of newly formed cracks, and electricity and Elemental particles sparked between walls.

A powerful existence disrupted Donhalgen’s order, short-circuiting The Grand Formation.

Though Rising Horizon Council prepared countless contingency plans, all paled before this transcendental presence.

Only a deific mean could contend against a deity.

“Need help?” Cilvia, after fixing her messy clothes and hair, came up to Ludmint. “My teams can lend a hand, although they come with a small price tag.”

“Shall we undress, then?” Ludmint didn’t shift her attention away from the maze, but her frisky voice alone chilled Cilvia.

“Not that kind of price!” Cilvia gulped, fighting her urge to retreat. “I’ve heard that Iris has a particularly enlightening encounter in one of her adventures, which leads to her refreshing perspective on spell casting.”

“I can give you her schedule, but you’ll have to confirm the date with me first.”

“Don’t worry. My gaze is reserved only for you.”

Ludmint moved her hands to her chest and took off her lab coat. Cilvia panicked and retracted her flirts. She knew her intimate friend was teasing her, yet her heart couldn’t help but race whenever a forbidden offer was made. This side of Ludmint, it wasn’t so bad.

While Cilvia slipped into daydreaming, Ludmint swept her gaze across the maze below. Amidst the rising and falling crimson tides, a researcher carefully stabilised his section of the circuit. Travion pressed a black bar onto a crack in his monolith and channelled his Pure Power. The bar sank beneath the monolith’s surface, merged with it, and sealed the crack.

As he pulled back the seal, his long-sleeved coat rustled. Faint, blood-coloured mist emerged and twirled itself way towards the monolith.

Though subtle and fleeting, Ludmint managed to detect it.

Iris had already warned her. Although she had carefully vetted her team members, she trusted her Iris enough to keep an eye on Travion.

Ludmint lifted her right hand. Her figure blurred. A series of circular magical arrays manifested, revolving around her.

Travion felt his messy hair rising. He gripped the black bar in his right hand and pulled it back. The bloody mist dissipated, traceless. He glanced behind him. Tens of circular runes arose from the grey floor, chaotically rotating, forming a hollow pillar.

Within the pillar, a spectral figure came into existence. She lifted her translucent hand and pointed at the circuit. Pale light beamed from her fingertip and penetrated the monolith, fusing with it. Its smooth surface rippled, and its cracks shrank. The fragmented pieces floated back to their places, joined seamlessly, and resumed their prior operations.

Travion turned to face the spectral Ludmint and bowed his head, his heart racing, his chest tightening.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lady Ludmint.”

Ludmint silently smiled. Her milky body dispersed along with her magical pillar.

At the balcony, Ludmint drew back her hand. Her attention was no longer on Travion. Exposing him now wouldn’t benefit her. Even if it were beneficial, she still wouldn’t do it.

Such an achievement should go to her Iris. Although Iris herself wouldn’t think so, that girl was too humble. She needed to recognise her own quality!

“How envious,” Cilvia said. “If I had your spell, I would stay at my home all day and let my spectres work for me.”

“Unfortunately, you refused to learn illusion and space branches.”

Cilvia hmphed. “Your spell further specialised in the spectre subbranch. It’d take me at least ten years to learn what you consider basic.”

“If you wish, you can experience it right here, right now.”

Cilvia backstepped from Ludmint, holding her breath. “I just remembered that my teams need me. Ask my assistant if you need me. I have to go!”

As she opened the door and left the room, she peeked at Ludmint, who focused on the maze below her. Though she knew Ludmint was working, she still felt disappointed that Ludmint didn’t try to stop her. Well, if Ludmint did stop her, she wouldn’t know what to do either.

She had to get used to this sensual way.

After Cilvia left, Ludmint sighed. She also wanted to keep Cilvia here, but she must prepare herself for any emergency.

She stared at her engagement ring. Her reflection returned her gaze, judging her for not being beside her Iris.

…

Space rippled. The air distorted, twisting, morphing into a vortex of black light. A slender hand reached out. Its delicate fingers gripped the rift and expanded it. Iris tumbled out from the Void and into Main Material Plane. Her feet landed on the stone pavement. It caved beneath her, crushed by the invisible weight stressing her body.

She knelt, her face pale. Her slime body splattered and reformed and splattered, with lightning and dark clouds swirling around her Shadow Heart Core. Purple tendrils formed throughout her membrane and wrapped around the lightning, turning her slime dark purple.

All around her, students and professors of Royal Magic Academy gathered, though they dared not get close. The petrifying power leaking from Iris stifled their bravery, killed their curiosity, and amplified their fear. Some students tried to take advantage of her circumstances, but the strayed lightning shredded through their magical shields and disintegrated them.

Their charred cloaks, blown away by localised tempests, became the brushes which drew the dividing line between Iris and the rest of the world.

Iris bit her tongue and moaned. Her voice breached all obstacles, physical or mystical, and reverberated throughout the academy. Those who heard her tone shivered, their chests tightening, their minds spinning.

As the professors readied their spells and weapons, Iris rose from the floor. She exhaled a puff of black cloud, which dispersed like a mirage. The agonising sparks infesting her slime vanished, assimilated by her all-corrupting Mind Breaker Bloodline.

She looked around. Her eyes darkened into twilight purple. Those under her gaze felt their souls flickering, their minds sinking into an endless abyss. Their Pure Power lost its rhythm, violently going out of control. A few Mages bled through their eyes, though they experienced no pain, only a twisted numbness.

Iris ignored them. She stood in the middle of a large circular corridor connecting multiple smaller buildings. The shattered glass ceiling revealed a tide of crimson mist. They coursed around the buildings but were unable to enter, obstructed by magical formations engraved on the buildings.

She was in the academy’s Lecture Hall. Because this place was unrelated to the rescue operation, she forbade her subordinates from wandering too close. They wouldn’t reach here too quickly.

Fortunately, she didn’t find Tundra among the crowd. Tundra should be at her dorm, away from the area of operation, away from The Court.

“How did you break through the formation?” a young professor said. He pointed his wand at Iris. His silver eyes shone like moonlight.

Iris blinked, and her eyes regained their azure shade. Her slippery tendrils dissolved into her azure slime. She retracted her ominous presence, leaving tranquil emptiness in its place.

“Did my presence ruin the mood?” She smiled.

The professor took a deep breath. Despite his fine control and detection speciality, he couldn’t sense anything emanating from this unknown Monster Girl. Her silhouette was a singularity, devoid of all signal and presence.

“What do you want?” he said.

“Is there anyone willing to escort me?” Iris pressed her right hand on her chest. “Along the way, I can teach you how I hide my presence.”

The crowd looked among themselves. Though most of them dismissed the idea, some entertained it; their ambition and fascination overpowered their fear.

“We won’t allow you to lay your hands on our students!” the young professor said.

He, along with other Master Mages, cast their spells. Webs of runes and mystical symbols materialised, lit up, and generated multitudes of powers. Sliver arrows and ice shards flew towards Iris. Flaming rings and vines sprouted from the ground, confining her.

Iris maintained her smile. Her body twitched, her translucent membrane trembling. Her arms divided themselves, growing more pairs. Each pair mimicked each professor, drawing magic arrays, channelling Corruption Power, and casting spells.

An exact copy of magic rose out of her and met their doppelgangers, annihilating each other. Pure Power and Corruption Power intertwined before imploding into sparkles, which twirled around Iris as if she were an angel surrounded by starlight.

Silence plagued the corridor. The professors widened their eyes.

“My offer still stands,” Iris said.