On the academy island’s coastline, atop a breakwater untouched by surveillance cameras, three masked figures—two women and one man—engaged in a tense conversation.

“…Is it still not ready?”

The speaker was the tallest of the group, a woman toying irritably with the whip hanging at her waist. Sporadic flickers of mana radiated from her, exuding a dangerous aura.

“The clearance! I asked if it’s ready!”

“…Not yet, ma’am.”

The reply came from a burly masked man, his voice cautious. The woman’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“Damn that old man. This is why politicians are useless—slow and indecisive…”

Her voice seethed with suppressed rage as she bit down on the edge of her mask. Even the moonlight seemed to retreat behind the clouds, avoiding her fury. Then, the military-grade phone in the burly man’s hand lit up.

“…A message from above. The operation was a success. The minister personally swayed the Westerner board member…”

“Of course it succeeded! Do you have any idea how rare the potion he used was?”

Flinching, the man instinctively bowed his head.

“Fools… When it comes to infiltration, timing is everything…”

Spitting out her contempt, the whip-wielding woman turned to another figure in their group—the smallest of the three, also clutching a phone. Her expression, visible beneath the edge of her mask, was grim.

“What about contact?”

“…N-no one is responding.”

“No one? Not even the Black Sheep?”

“No… The Black Sheep isn’t responding either.”

A cracking sound emanated from the whip-wielding woman’s neck as it tilted ominously to one side.

“Hah… Barely a few months out of the barn, and they’re already growing rebellious.”

“Maybe… maybe there’s a good reason for it?”

“Reason? What reason could be more important than patriotism?”

At her sharp retort, the smaller woman bowed deeply.

“…My apologies. I misspoke.”

“Watch your tongue. We’re not here at the academy to play games.”

“…Understood.”

Silence fell over the group. The whip-wielding woman appeared lost in thought, while the other two nervously awaited her next move. After what felt like a moment stretched too long, she spoke again.

“…We have no choice. We’ll move first.”

“But… if we’re discovered on the inside…”

“Then don’t get caught.”

“…What about the sheep?”

“If the sheep have grown complacent, it’s the shepherd’s duty to wield the rod. We’ll activate the binding spell near the dormitory.”

Her voice was resolute. The other two nodded silently and followed her lead. For them, her orders were absolute—just like their unwavering loyalty to the homeland. No doubt or dissent was allowed.

“Move quickly.”

The moment the whip-wielding woman stepped off the breakwater, all three figures sprinted toward the academy’s interior in unison. Anyone familiar with high-level combat techniques would have immediately recognized their mastery of stealth arts.

They left no footprints, evading both surveillance cameras and detection magic, until they reached their destination: the first-year girls’ dormitory.

The building matched the images they’d studied, enabling them to pinpoint the rooms where the sheep resided with ease.

“…Prepare the binding spell.”

“Target, ma’am? The Red Sheep?”

“The Black Sheep. Focus on one. If she spills blood at the seventh junction, the rest will crawl out on their own.”

“…Understood.”

As the three took their positions around the dormitory and prepared to unleash the binding spell, a flash of light erupted from the rooftop.

 

‘What is that…?’

On a distant construction site, a "priest" disguised in a worker’s garb turned his head toward the academy.

In the dark night sky, a single beam of golden mana shot upward.

“Whoa, fireworks? At this hour? Who could it be?”

“Looks like it’s coming from the student island. Maybe some kind of magic experiment.”

While the other workers marveled at the sight, the priest's thoughts diverged.

‘Lord, does this mean the prophecy has truly changed?’

As always, his silent prayer was met with divine silence.

 

At the moment when immense mana was drawn into the seal, Yeomyeong recalled the words of the Dwarf King.

[The seal can break any curse or binding if it has enough mana.]

Had he underestimated what "enough" truly meant?

Grinding his teeth, Yeomyeong felt the massive drain of mana. The situation was dire.

If his usual use of mana was like scooping water from a basin, the current rate felt more like an uncontrollable torrent pouring out of a cracked barrel.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—his body, enhanced by consuming the World Tree’s crystal, was a large enough vessel to endure the strain. For now.

But this level of mana depletion could only be sustained for a few more minutes at best.

‘…Why?’

Yeomyeong didn’t consider himself an expert in magic, but even he knew that breaking a mere curse shouldn’t require such absurd amounts of mana.

Was it the artifact? No, the golden seal he held was a royal treasure of the Dwarf Kingdom, likely the only thing making this endeavor even remotely efficient.

The only remaining possibility was that the "curse" in the sisters’ minds wasn’t just a curse.

‘…Seti.’

Through the golden mana flooding the magic circle, Yeomyeong glanced at the sisters caught in the artifact’s spell.

All four had lost focus, their eyes gazing into the distance as if entranced by an illusion.

‘…Should I stop?’

Logic screamed at him to release the seal and halt the spell. Breaking the curse was important, but if he collapsed from mana exhaustion, what would it accomplish?

Worrying about the shepherds arriving at the academy? Seti and her sisters might endure pain, but surely the shepherds wouldn’t kill them.

Logically, stopping now was the right choice.

But Yeomyeong ignored logic.

Just as he had in front of the cleaners' graves when he vowed revenge. Just as he had when the elder told him to abandon his vendetta. Just as he had when he charged into battle against countless shepherds in Manchuria.

He cast aside reason, letting his rage guide him.

He’d come too far to heed reason in the face of an opportunity to strike at the corrupt Korean government.

‘…Let’s see this through.’

With grim resolve, Yeomyeong poured even more mana into the seal. The trickle of mana became a flood, as though an entire dam had burst.

 

The Black Sheep blinked.

She couldn’t comprehend the scene before her.

Just moments ago, she’d been on the dormitory rooftop with Yeomyeong…

But now, she found herself inside what seemed to be a rustic log cabin—a place that could have been a barn or a secluded retreat.

[You’re mistaken about something.]

The cabin was warm. A roaring fireplace kept the biting chill of the outside world at bay.

[Releasing sheep isn’t freedom. It’s cruelty.]

Before the fire stood an old man—or rather, something masquerading as one. He continued speaking to her in a condescending tone.

[Sheep are happiest in the pasture. They dedicate their wool, bear offspring, and ultimately offer their flesh and blood to give meaning to their otherwise worthless lives.]

Incomprehensible words. The Black Sheep tilted her head in confusion.

[Don’t understand, do you? Well, you’re neither a regressor nor a possessor.]

His words dripped with mockery. The Black Sheep bristled but quickly remembered that sheep couldn’t speak. Rising to her feet, she turned and headed for the cabin’s exit.

[You won’t get out.]

He was right. She couldn’t open the door.

Even when she tried to grip the handle with her teeth, it was far too high. Leaping up with all her might, she couldn’t even reach it, landing awkwardly on the floor instead.

[Futile. You’re a sheep. You belong in the pasture. Obey, and perhaps the shepherd will find you a fine ram.]

A fine ram? For the first time, the Black Sheep felt a surge of anger and glared at the old man.

[The shepherds and the ranch owner think long-term. If your generation fails to produce results, they’ll simply ensure the next one does.]

Screw you.

[You think you can resist? Sheep live as sheep and die as sheep.]

Get lost.

[Come closer. Stay by the fire instead of venturing into the cold.]

You, the shepherds, the ranch owner—screw all of you.

[Tsk… I tried to reason with you. Must I resort to punishment to make you see sense?]

With that, the old man rose from his seat. A menacing aura radiated from him, far beyond anything the Black Sheep could have anticipated.

Ah.

It was incomprehensible, and because it defied understanding, it was insurmountable.

Faced with it, her legs gave out, her eyes closed, and her tongue froze mid-insult.

[Will you die here, or live as a sheep?]

The old man loomed over her, his hand reaching out. She trembled, ready to declare her submission—to live as a sheep in the pasture forever.

But she couldn’t.

The face of a certain boy flashed in her mind.

If Scarab—her Yeomyeong—were here, he would have said:

Screw you.

It was a meaningless act of defiance. Her words couldn’t hurt the old man.

But resistance born of desperation carried its own weight—a refusal to yield no matter the cost.

[Foolish creature.]

The old man’s face twisted with rage as his hand reached for her throat.

[You had so many paths prepared for you.]

Just as his fingers closed in, the cabin shook violently.

[…What?]

The old man turned his startled gaze to the door. Before he could speak, the door flew open with a crash.

[How…?]

As his bewildered voice filled the cabin, the Black Sheep turned her head to see beyond the door.

The desolate wasteland outside was not what she expected. There was no biting wind, only the eerie stillness of a barren field reeking of ash.

At its center stood a lone figure, silhouetted against the emptiness—a shadowy form in the shape of a woman, draped in a dress as fluid as liquid darkness.

[Who are you? Speak!]

The old man’s voice quivered with fear as he shouted at the figure.

[How is this possible? This is my domain—my dream!]

As the shadow approached, the old man’s panic grew.

[Get out! Leave at once!]

But when the shadow stood before him, the old man fell silent. As though crushed by an unseen force, he retreated deep into the cabin.

The shadow didn’t pursue. Instead, it turned to the Black Sheep.

『Hong Seti.』

The Black Sheep—Hong Seti—looked up at the shadow.

This… This was unlike the old man.

Just gazing upon its form, made of rippling darkness, felt as though it might blind her.

『I have come to offer you an opportunity.』

『Will you become the first? Or will you remain here, living as a sheep?』

Unable to meet its gaze, Seti stared at the floor and asked, “The first… The first of what?”

『The first to offer your destiny to my chosen.』

She didn’t understand, so she asked again, trembling.

“…Your chosen?”

『Someone you know well.』

“Someone I know…? Don’t tell me…”

The shadow laughed soundlessly.

『Exactly who you’re thinking of.』

Ah. Seti shuddered—not from fear, but from something else entirely.

“I… I will…”

She turned her gaze to the cabin interior—the pasture, the place where she had lived as a sheep.

She no longer wanted to live as a sheep.

“…I will be the first.”

Her declaration was resolute. The shadow smiled and placed a hand on her head.

Its touch was warmer than the fireplace, yet more chilling than death.

『First is unique. Be proud as you offer your destiny.』

As it spoke, a small orb of light appeared in Seti’s hand, glowing brilliantly.

Seti instinctively tried to offer the orb to the shadow, but it didn’t accept.

Instead, it leaned in, whispering into her ear.

『Not to me. To my chosen.』

“How do—”

The question was cut short.

The moment Seti raised her head to meet the shadow’s gaze, her mind faltered, unable to bear the pressure.

『When the time comes, call upon my name—not the false god’s.』

As her senses dimmed and her consciousness returned to reality, the shadow’s voice echoed clearly in her ears.

『Mignium. That is the only name you shall serve.』