Months passed.
And both Aurora and Theodore had changed in ways no one could ignore.
Aurora no longer fought alone. Iskaryon soared above her like a second sky, answering her calls without hesitation.
The hunts Charlotte assigned weren't simple exercises—
they were survival missions.
Magical creatures, born from the an unstable mana polluting animals in their habitats, had to be eliminated before they became disasters that neither side could control.
High above the far northern battlefields, where snowstorms never truly settled and the horizon was nothing but white and void, Aurora fought like a storm given form.
Her movements were no longer hesitant. No longer uncertain. Her title had already spread.
The Witch of Absolute Ice.
But now, something else followed it.
Not whispered in fear. But spoken in recognition.
The White Calamity.
Not an insult but a confirmation of what she had become.
Below her, Theodore followed. Small frame. Quiet presence. Still timid at times—but no longer weak.
With Lilith—now a humanoid bat-shaped construct, like that of a succubus, formed from accumulated blood and refinement—he fought in a completely different rhythm than Aurora.
Blood threads extended from his fingertips like invisible strings, weaving through the battlefield.
Nets formed mid-air, tightening instantly upon contact.
Magical beasts that once required full expedition teams were dissected mid-motion, their movements halted before they could even become threats.
To those watching, it no longer looked like a battle. It looked like an execution performed with grace. And standing alongside Persephone's expedition group near the outskirts of Murmansk, even the seasoned Ravens had gone silent.
At first, they doubted. A Calamity that had rampaged in the Witching Hour. And a D'Arcel heir that looks like a simple breeze could knock him out.
They expected support roles at best. Observation duty.
Cleanup.
But when the battlefield opened—
They realized their mistake immediately.
Aurora descended like winter itself. Theodore moved like a shadowed executioner without hesitation. And Iskaryon's roar split the sky like a breaking dimension.
By the end—
The Ravens were no longer hunters. They were observers collecting what little remained of a battlefield that had already been decided the moment it began.
It was a successful expedition.
For Aurora and for Theodore, that is.
And for the Ravens, who quietly learned something they didn't want to admit: Their world was smaller than they thought.
Meanwhile, the Lunarium no longer felt like a hidden coven. It was crowded.
Alive and growing.
Mistress Mildred Rossi had already approved Charlotte's system. Even she—someone who had seen centuries of witchcraft administration—had been surprised.
Witches and supernaturals alike arrived in waves.
Some are curious.
Some desperate.
Some were afraid of what it meant to step into something openly tied to the Heretical Witch.
And among them—
Familiar names stood at the front desk.
Valeria Panthera stood tall, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Beside her—
Selene Raven. The granddaughter of Persephone.
"You?" Valeria smirked slightly. "Didn't expect the proud Ravens to apply."
Selene's eyes narrowed instantly.
"I could say the same to you."
The air between them tightened. Not yet a fight but the kind of tension that always came before one.
Before it could escalate further—
The pressure dropped.
It didn't crush the room. It simply defined it.
A porcelain doll stood calmly at the desk. Perfect posture. Perfect smile. Perfect stillness.
Liora. A living construct. Another of Charlotte's creations.
"Please," Liora said softly, voice polite yet carrying authority that didn't belong to something that looked so fragile. "Not inside."
Silence followed.
Not because they agreed. But because something in them instinctively understood—
This wasn't a place where conflicts were allowed to spiral.
Then registration proceeded. Then testing. And the result came without hesitation.
Beginner rank.
Both of them.
They didn't argue. They didn't protest. They simply left in silence—each carrying the same quiet humiliation they refused to acknowledge aloud.
The next day, the Lunarium changed again. The amethyst structure shifted like it was breathing. Towers extended outward from the floating geode, forming connected halls, lecture spaces, and training grounds that did not exist the day before.
It was no longer just a coven. It was becoming an institution.
And in the center—
A stage formed.
Elowen stepped forward.
"Be silent."
Her voice was calm. But it carried across the entire space without effort.
Above her—
The Senate watched.
The great families watched.
Every faction that mattered in the Witching Hour was present in some form, observing what Charlotte had built as if trying to decide whether it was genius or disaster.
And then—
A scream cut through the air.
"YAAAAAAAAHOOOOO!!!"
A witch dropped from the sky in a broom with intense speed like she had personally refused the concept of landing normally.
Then another. Then another. One after another, six figures arrived in chaotic fashion, each one unmistakably powerful in their own right.
Ashia, the professor of the School of Alteration, was the first to arrive—crashing through the sky on a broom like it was the most natural thing in the world. With her golden-yellow hair trailing behind her and her stereotypical witch-like garments flowing in the wind, she looked like something straight out of old-world myth… except far more dangerous in motion.
Hanami, the professor of Conjuration, followed shortly after. She descended not by flight, but by balance—standing effortlessly atop a sword as it cut through the air. Her tied, flowing hair swayed with each shift in direction as she landed gracefully on the stage. A haori adorned with flowers wrapped around her frame, each petal-like pattern almost seeming to bloom with every step she took.
Fleur, the professor of the school ofDestruction, arrived without ceremony. Dressed in simple, casual clothing—a hoodie being the most prominent—she looked almost out of place among the more dramatic entrances. Yet the staff in her hand, far taller than her small frame, quietly hinted otherwise.
Dorothy, the professor of the school ofIllusion, came next. Older than the rest, she carried herself with a calm, maternal presence that immediately softened the atmosphere around her.
Mary, the professor of the school ofRestoration, trailed slightly behind Dorothy, almost as if trying to disappear into her shadow. With oversized round glasses and a visibly shy demeanor, she avoided eye contact with the crowd, her presence gentle to the point of being almost fragile.
And lastly—
Franziska, the professor of the school of Enchanting.
Or rather, as she insisted—
the Engineer.
She did not arrive like the others. She dropped in. A mechanized suit tore through the air before landing in a controlled, thunderous impact on the stage—an explosive fusion of Bareblood technology and Witching Hour enchantment layered into something entirely its own. The ground cracked slightly beneath the weight of it. For a moment, silence held. Then the suit hissed open. Franziska stepped out casually, as if she hadn't just made an entrance that shook the entire stage. Dressed in a simple tank top with a jacket loosely strapped around her waist, she looked almost underwhelming compared to the machine she had just exited.
Almost. But not quite.
Not one of them felt "normal." And that was exactly what unsettled the crowd.
Whispers spread instantly.
"These are teachers?"
"…No."
"…They feel like calamities."
Then—
Space tore open.
A clean, precise distortion.
Charlotte stepped out casually.
"Yo."
Silence. Absolute silence. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
Students were sorted into three tiers: Beginner. Intermediate. Advanced.
Most fell into Beginner. A few into Intermediate. Barely any reached Advanced. Then robes were distributed.
Enchanted. Over-engineered. Built to prevent fatal mistakes while still allowing real combat exposure.
"Barely acceptable," Franziska muttered while inspecting one of them.
No one dared argue.
Then classes began.
Valeria had chosen Alteration for the first month while Selen chose Destruction.
Valeria entered quietly. Selene was already inside hers. Of course she was. Their rivalry didn't matter here anymore. Not in this place.
Ashia smiled at the class.
Warm. Almost inviting.
And then—
Her body changed.
Not violently. Not grotesquely. But correctly, as if revealing what was always meant to be there.
Scales formed along her arms. Her posture shifted. Her presence deepened. Eyes sharpened into something non-human.
"Dragonhide," she said calmly. "Touch it."
Valeria did.
And immediately understood. It wasn't strength alone. It was authority over the body itself.
Her family technique—Panthera—flared in her mind.
And for the first time—
It felt incomplete.
Ashia returned to normal just as easily. Then continued with her lessons for the day.
The lessons were interesting. Everyone were focused on whatever their professor, Ashia, was speaking.
And finally—
She introduced it.
Fortimancy.
A branch of Alteration that instead of having one big "locked" system where everything works the same way, this branch has smaller pieces that you can combine depending on what you need.
Valeria sat still.
Listening. Absorbing. Rewriting everything she thought she knew.
And quietly—
She realized something she didn't want to say out loud.
Her Martial Magic… was outdated.
"…It's heretical," she whispered.
Not in rejection. But recognition.
Then came Excalibur. A weapon formed from nothing. Imagined into existence. The class froze. Even Valeria.
"Tada! Excalibur~" Ashia giggled.
"…Too much," she whispered again. But her eyes didn't move away. She wanted more.
She could feel it. Everyone could feel it. Just a single slash using that weapon could cut an entire mountain when injected with mana and enchantment supporting the body.
Dispelling it to nothingness, the people in class all reached their hands out in dismay.
Ending the class for the day, Ashia waves them goodbye and wishes that their month studying Alteration would be productive.
Returning to her room's front door, she could see Selene beside her, with the same excitement in her eyes.
"You liked your class too?" Selene asked quietly.
"…Yeah," Valeria admitted. "Too much."
No argument followed. No pride. Just shared uncertainty. They walked back together in silence.
Thinking. Reevaluating. Changing.
And somewhere far above them—
Charlotte's system continued to expand.
Quietly. Irreversibly. Like a truth that had already decided it would not be ignored anymore.