“Tundra!” Tundra’s friend touched her shoulder. “You’ve been staring at . . . that Monster Girl. Are you . . .”

Tundra shivered. She turned to her friend and shook her head stiffly. “I’m just tired. There’s no way I’m entranced by her.”

The friend sighed. She handed Tundra a replenishment potion and stayed with her until she was dragged by her friends. They went on to gossip about Iris and her two terrifying assistants. They had witnessed Secain ruthlessly kill the senior who offended Iris, and thus they regarded the mysterious Iris with apprehensive reverence.

Tundra also got nervous when she looked at Secain, but another feeling sneaked into her heart. The way Secain and Lorient got close to Iris, it agitated her. She’d stayed with her mentor for many long hours yet had never once the courage to act like that.

It turned out that she was too slow. She wasn’t the only one in this race.

Tundra lightly slapped her cheeks. It wasn’t yet clear that the mysterious Monster Girl was her mentor!

“Such overflowing yearning. To whom did you give your heart?”

Tundra spun around. A maiden in a pastel pink dress covered her mouth and giggled. Her soft white skin, coated under a layer of sparkling sugar, bounced with her delicate movement. Her breaths carried a candy-like scent.

“Who . . . are you, Miss?” Tundra said.

“You’ve charmed me, Tundra, with your sweet, adorable blushes. I’ve heard from my friend that you’re talented. Someone of your calibre, beauty and intellect, should join us.”

Tundra averted her gaze. The students near her backed away from the Candy Girl, who happily smiled at them before returning her attention to Tundra.

Should she risk it?

“Monster Girls . . . are beings of Corruption Power,” Tundra said.

“We are indeed monsters whose essences differ from this world, but we are also girls whose hearts beat for ourselves,” the Candy Girl said. “My name is Ciella, a Pink Candy Girl, Transformation Phase.”

“Why should I . . . abandon my current life? A life of hiding, of eternal persecution, is too much of a price for . . . what you called freedom.”

“Indeed, the Churches and the public are afraid of us. Even the world rejects us.” Ciella carefully held Tundra’s hand and drew it close to her chest. “However, The Court, our home, has given us a chance to walk among the ordinary, to live a life of carefreeness. The Court Founder and her senior members will one day realise the future where we can walk this earth unhindered.”

Tundra turned to Iris, who casually chatted with her two beloved assistants. Those expressions, those gestures, those manners, they superimposed into a haunting grace, whispering affirmation to her guess. No matter how different their appearance was, their disposition matched.

Tundra returned her gaze to Ciella. “Is she one of the senior members?”

“Lady Black Rose, the youngest senior member, and the most active!” Ciella’s voice peeked. She moved closer to Tundra, her face blushing. “I once have the opportunity to get close to her. She complimented my chocolate and even tasted my finger. I almost melted.”

“Is she that charming?”

“She’s our mistress, our leader, and our blessed lady. We admire her, and she adores us.”

Ciella let go of Tundra’s hands. “If you join us, Tundra, you’ll have a chance to get close to her, or even receive her reward. It’s said that her kiss is heavenly, her embrace divine.”

“But that’s immoral!”

Ciella widened her eyes. Her mouth curved into a grin. “Oh my. Your heart is wide open.”

Tundra took a deep breath. She couldn’t refuse Ciella; Iris had twisted her heart and moulded it into something she herself could hardly recognise.

Even Ciella, who had only known her for a short while, picked up on this.

Had Iris known it all along?

“Before I choose, can you do me a favour?”

“Anything for love.”

Tundra drew her right hand forwards. A ring on her ring finger glowed. A transparent bubble containing a preserved handkerchief manifested in her palm. She lightly popped the bubble. The handkerchief landed on her hand.

“Please look at it.” Tundra’s face flushed as she handed the handkerchief to Ciella.

Ciella tilted her head and accepted it. She caressed the soft fabric, held it close to her face, and sniffed it playfully. A faint but fruity scent pervaded her mind, taking over her soul. She froze.

This scent, it was unmistakable. She had only smelt it once, but it was the most memorable aroma.

She stared at Tundra, who breathlessly waited for a reaction, an answer, anything.

“You . . .” Ciella reached for Tundra.

“Miss Ciella. Mistress wishes for your presence.”

Ciella snapped back to her sense. She drew back her hands and turned to Secain, who beamed at her. Secain’s abyssal black eyes pierced through Ciella and landed on Tundra, whose trembling legs threatened to give out.

“I . . . understand.” Ciella profoundly looked at Tundra and left for Iris.

Tundra blinked. She met Secain’s eyes and took a step back. A suffocating pressure grasped her, but she refused to yield. Her hazel eyes flickered when staring at her love rival.

“Is anything the matter?” she said.

“You may call me Purple Shadow, Mistress’s personal maid.” Secain flicked her wrist. Tundra’s handkerchief appeared in her hand. She handed it back to Tundra. “I’m returning this handkerchief to you. Please don’t lose it.”

Tundra accepted it, though her eyes remained fixed on Secain. “Do you like your mistress?”

“My body and soul, heart and mind, belong to her.”

“Your mistress, is she—”

“Can you handle the truth? Are you prepared?” Secain placed her index finger on her lips. “There’s no return once you cross the line. You’ll regret it if you’re impulsive.”

Secain turned around and trod away. Her figure dissolved into a nearby shadow and reemerged beside her mistress, who had summoned all Transformation Phase Monster Girls to her side.

Tundra pursed her lips. Her heart raced, her breath quickened, and her mind blurred. She stood at the edge between light and darkness. Only she could make the decision, yet she was hesitant.

She wanted to ask her mentor to guide her once more.

Ignoring her friends who rushed to her, asking her questions about Ciella and Secain, Tundra made her way out from the captives. She was heading for a supervising Monster Girl when a pair of gazes landed on her.

Ramantis and Wandrina caught up to Tundra.

“You must be Tundra, right?” Ramantis said.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Ramantis. She’s Wandrina. We’re your seniors.”

“I shouldn’t have let you speak,” Wandrina said. “Your introduction is as horrible as expected.”

Wandrina dismissed Ramantis. She pinched the rim of her skirt and curtseyed. On her face blossomed an elegant smile.

“My name is Wandrina Lallae, a senior undergraduate specialising in ice magic.” Wandrina’s gentle tone lulled Tundra, whose agitated mind gradually settled. “We’ve heard of your feats and wished to ask you a few questions.”

“I was merely lucky. I didn’t do much; it was . . .”

Tundra closed her eyes and breathed in. The senior’s visage flashed behind her eyelids. His dissolved body lingered in her memory, repeating the same dropping and melting motion whenever she lost her focus.

Her face paled. She’d been too entranced by her own thoughts that she disregarded the reality, the reality where her reliable senior lost his life because of an impassioned remark.

The Court wasn’t a paradise. The Monster Girls weren’t angels.

Was her mentor also indifferent to life and death?

Wandrina grabbed Tundra’s trembling hands and drew them close to her chest. She blew at them. A wisp of bluish-pink Pure Power condensed into vapours. They sprinkled upon Tundra, tickling her clothes and cooling her body.

“Take a long, deep breath, Tundra. I’m here. We’re here. Your friends are behind you. You’re in the academy.” Wandrina carefully let go of Tundra, who recollected herself.

“I’m sorry, Miss Wandrina. I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“Your mental health is of utmost importance. Don’t force yourself. You’ve just exhausted both your body and mind.”

Tundra peeked beyond Wandrina and at Iris who was discussing something with other Monster Girls. Even after that realization, her heart still, though nervously, beat for her mentor. She needed Iris’s consolation the most.

Had she gone insane, seduced by the darkness, or blinded by love?

She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t willing to be sure.

“I’m fine, Miss Wandrina,” she said. “What would you like to ask me? I’m willing to answer if I can.”

“We want to know . . . about that Monster Girl.” Ramantis pointed at Iris, his voice faltering.

“Why haven’t you learned, Ramantis?” Wandrina said. “I won’t hold back if I must punish you again.”

Wandrina and Ramantis bickered on and on while Tundra soundlessly listened. Her eyes occasionally drifted to Iris, calling out for her to turn around, meet her gaze, and confirm her thought.

But, if Iris really turned around, would she be able to handle the answer?

…

Afternoon light pierced through thin crimson clouds and illuminated the blood-painted streets, buildings, and people. The all-obscuring mists dispersed, revealing holes which connected isolated areas into the complete Donhalgen.

Iris strolled out of Royal Magic Academy. Her subordinates surrounded her, with Secain and Lorient behind her, admiring her fair skin. She had released the captives and taken those who wished to join The Court with her.

“Soon, Evil Punisher Grand Formation will rise. My dear Ludmint can’t delay it forever,” Iris said. “The world is in chaos, the Churches in shamble. We shall split up as planned and met at our hideout.”

“Please be careful, Madam Black Rose,” an Ink Girl said.

Iris laughed. “Call me Iris. There’s no longer the need to maintain secrecy. Everyone here is or will become one of us.”

“As you wish, Madam . . . Iris.”

The few human ladies shrank and averted their eyes. Their Corrupted companions leaned on them, kissed their cheeks, and teased them with their fingers, though none dared to disturb the order maintained in respect for Iris.

After a few more assurances, the group split into multiple smaller teams. Each team went in a different direction, heading for various locations on isolated paths. They swiftly merged with the thin, churning mists, leaving behind Iris with her two trusted aids.

She wanted to stay back alone, but she could never force those two to abandon her.

“Mistress, you don’t have to do this,” Lorient said. “We members of The Court must protect you, not the other way around.”

“How can I inspire my kind when I can’t shelter them?”

“You’ve already inspired us with your presence.”

“Lorient, no amount of praise will make me love you more than now and forever. I’ve already given you all I have.”

Lorient straightened her back and pressed her hands on her chest. The flowers on her body blossomed, swaying with her movement.

Secain hmphed. “Mistress, please shower me with love too.”

“When have I never?” Iris kissed her fingers and blew at Secain. “We’ll continue our flirt later. Everyone else must have gone far enough.”

Iris looked at Royal Magic Academy once more. Vindette still hadn’t come out, but she was powerful enough to withstand everything. There was no need to worry about her.

Iris took out a metallic cube, on whose surface engraved intricate depictions of demons and angels. Her azure Corruption Power coated the cube, turning purple, and seeped into its reflective material.

Phantoms of candles and altars and spirits surrounded Iris, hovering around her and her two assistants.

A wicked yet fragrant scent radiated from the cube, flooding the area with dark purple energy flow, tainting the bloodied mists, darkening the penetrative sunlight.

“Cultists and Demons, I’ve lit up Occult Cube. You all must have sensed it,” Iris smirked. “Come, come and dance with me. A grand performance awaits you all.”