As blue mana dust swirled around them, a red-haired girl emerged.

She was a head shorter than Seti, with amber eyes that glimmered like gemstones. Although beautiful, she carried a different aura from Seti. The two of them shared little in appearance and presence. Her attire was equally striking—a red dress that reached her knees, a matching leather jacket, and crimson patent shoes.

‘…Is this another illusion spell?’

Yeomyeong was momentarily speechless, thrown off by her bold, almost avant-garde fashion sense. He heightened his senses to detect any traces of mana but found none, confirming that this girl was indeed real.

“Why are you staring like that? Never seen a mage before?”

Yeomyeong frowned and turned away, while Seti, avoiding his gaze, explained, “I mentioned her before, remember? The sister who took the curse in my place. This is her.”

At that, Yeomyeong was reminded of the original reason Seti had come to the underground market in Incheon: she was seeking the unicorn horn, the Uragan’s handle, to lift her sister's curse. It was by sheer coincidence that they had crossed paths, leading him to this point.

“Glad things worked out for you. But why is your sister here?”

The answer came from the red-haired girl herself.

“I wanted to test you myself. I wanted to talk and, if possible, verify that impressive talent of yours.”

“Test me? And by what authority?”

“Because I’m putting my life on the line. I’d say that gives me every right.”

Putting her life on the line? Yeomyeong looked to Seti for an explanation, but her expression was one of surprise.

“Siri? What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about? It means I know your entire plan and have come all this way to carry it out. Didn’t you pick up on that with all the hints I was dropping?”

The red-haired girl, Siri, chuckled, tilting her head.

“I want revenge on this country too. Burn those bastards to the ground and live freely with our grandmother.”

“How can you…”

Before Seti could finish, Siri pulled something from her belt and tossed it to Yeomyeong.

“Let me give you some advice, Sis. Don’t reveal secrets in front of a unicorn. Those horned nags will spill anything if a virgin asks.”

What she threw was the Uragan’s handle. The moment Yeomyeong caught it, a telepathic voice resounded in his head.

[Oh, pure one, don’t misunderstand! The only reason I confessed was that this beautiful maiden promised no harm would come to you!]

“…”

[And isn’t it partly your fault? You and that pure maiden spent the night together in a motel without even a wedding! Do you have any idea how nervous I was?!]

Yeomyeong shoved the handle into his pocket, letting out a sigh.

“Seti, your sister’s right. The unicorn spilled everything.”

“Oh…”

Seti covered her face, lowering her head. Unbothered by her sister’s embarrassment, Siri continued her rant.

“That’s just how unicorns are. Why do you think Clinton labeled them as dangerous? Just send them a virgin reporter, and they’ll blurt out every sordid detail about celebrities, politicians, and—”

“That’s enough.”

Yeomyeong cut her off and stood up, turning to face Jang-man, who was sipping his drink.

“Elder, we’ll step outside for a moment.”

“No need for that. I’ll step outside myself. No reason for the three of us to clear out for just one person.” He waved them off, heading out the back door without waiting for a response—a shrewd exit, like a true old-timer. He’d deftly extricated himself from their mess before he got labeled as an accomplice.

The door closed, and Seti spoke first, her face red with anger.

“Siri!”

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Worked up? You tricked me and Yeomyeong!”

“Come on, Sis, you’re a bit of an accomplice here. You did agree to let me test Yeomyeong… or should I call him ‘Big Brother’ now?”

“That’s because I didn’t expect you to go this far!”

“You matched my pace pretty well, though.”

“That was…”

Seti glanced nervously at Yeomyeong, her gaze resembling a guilty puppy seeking forgiveness.

“Yeomyeong, I really didn’t know Siri would go this far…”

Before she could make more excuses, Yeomyeong raised his hand to stop her.

“No need to explain. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Regardless of what Seti thought, this was his truth. There was no need for apologies or forgiveness over trivial matters.

After all, trust is like a delicate flower—it needs constant water to thrive, and it wilts without care. So the real issue here wasn’t the test itself but rather…

“Well then, let’s hear it. Did I pass?”

Siri answered for Seti, “Yes, you passed. And you did so with flying colors.”

“…What were the criteria?”

“Trust.”

It was a surprisingly straightforward answer, though Yeomyeong still found himself raising an eyebrow.

“…I didn’t feel like my trust was being tested.”

Siri pointed a finger at his face.

“What do you mean? I dangled the possibility of you joining the Academy or the Special Management Bureau, and you didn’t even blink.”

“…”

Now that she mentioned it, he supposed it might be tempting. After all, who doesn’t want wealth and fame? But for Cheonyeomyeong, that wasn’t part of the equation. He was driven solely by revenge—the price of his fallen comrades was worth more than any riches.

Because of that, Siri’s tempting mention of a “brighter path” or Freya Khan’s recommendation letter meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even flinched when he turned them down.

He chose not to voice these thoughts and let Siri continue.

“You also didn’t seem interested in taking advantage of my sister. Otherwise, you would have reacted when I called her a meat puppet.”

“Siri!”

Once again, Seti yelled, but Siri was unfazed.

“Finally, you have a unique sense of mana sensitivity. When I grabbed your wrist, I realized how strange it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mana responsiveness—it’s abnormal.”

“…”

“Just by focusing, you can almost feel the mana inside our bodies. Sis doesn’t delve into magic, so she wouldn’t realize, but any mage would be horrified.”

Is being able to sense mana such a big deal? He’d seen Seti and Freya Khan do something similar.

‘…Then again, neither of them are exactly ordinary, are they?’

It was hard to gauge with his limited knowledge, and it struck him once more how much he needed Seti’s help.

“Seti.”

“…Yes?”

“Your sister says I passed her test. How about yours?”

“My test… you passed the moment you took my hand that night. I haven’t doubted you since.”

Seti looked down, and they both recalled the moment they clasped hands and made a silent promise.

A brief silence hung between them until Siri, a bit bewildered, broke it.

“…Sis, are you serious? You gave up your virginity?”

“….”

“….”

“What? What’s with that look? Here, Big Brother, give me the Uragan handle. I need to check something—”

Thwack!

Before she could continue, Seti delivered a solid flick to Siri’s forehead, stopping her in her tracks.

 

“Hey! Get out here! It’s chaos right now!”

“What’s going on?”

“Just look up! You won’t believe it!”

As the students' voices echoed through the training ground, the clamor drew the attention of every trainee. Whether they were practicing punches or sword forms, they all turned to see what was going on outside.

“Wonder what’s happening?”

Among them were two particular students—an exhausted “Author” and Jeon Yoon-sung.

“It’s a terrorist attack! Another one!”

“Man, don’t joke about that!”

“Just come out and look already!”

Ignoring the chaos outside, the Author caught his breath, beads of sweat rolling down his face from sparring with Jeon Yoon-sung for the past hour. But as he heard the noise, he decided to step out with Yoon-sung, figuring anything was better than more sparring.

The sight that greeted him made him doubt his eyes.

Above the Academy dorms, gleaming feathers fluttered in the sky.

“Whoa… what’s that? Feathers? Is that magic?”

While the others looked on in awe, unable to discern its meaning, the Author muttered to himself.

“The Holy Sword’s Divine Step…?”

“The Holy Sword?”

Yoon-sung overheard, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you talking about Freya Khan?”

The Author couldn’t answer; his mind was racing.

The Holy Sword wasn’t supposed to appear now. In the story’s timeline, she wasn’t supposed to show up until the third year. Yet here she was, breaking the plot’s sequence.

“Hey! Look! Someone’s coming down!”

While he was lost in thought, three figures appeared amidst the scattered feathers and began descending, as if walking on invisible stairs.

Leading the way was a woman with an eyepatch, her hair tied up.

“No way… Is that…”

“It’s Freya Khan! The Holy Sword!”

As everyone watched her, the Author focused on the two figures trailing behind.

Both were striking beauties, but he paid special attention to their ears.

‘They’ve concealed their ears with magic.’

Even though they lacked the distinct long ears, he was certain. They were elves.

The only pairing that matched their appearance in this world was…

‘Princess Myridis and her guardian, Rime.’

He absentmindedly bit his thumbnail, thoughts racing.

What could have gone wrong for things to diverge so wildly? He’d tried to avoid causing a butterfly effect by staying under the radar until the prologue unfolded.

‘Could it be that I’m not the only one who’s possessed?’

As he contemplated this nightmare scenario, Yoon-sung’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Wow, she’s beautiful.”

“…”

“Do you think she’s an applicant too? I mean, she must be, right?”

Yoon-sung’s gaze was locked on the silver-haired beauty, who had just touched down.

The Author’s eyes grew colder as he took in the scene.