The night was deep, yet the Royal Academy was brightly lit.
The exchange activity had already ended, and Christine knew that the next event would be the mixer she had planned.
“Please wait a moment, everyone. I’ll go prepare the next spell.”
A curious freshman asked, “I’ve heard of dream magic, but how exactly does a test of courage work? Are you going to give us nightmares?”
“Just kidding, even we upperclassmen haven’t experienced it before.”
This year, there were more participants than ever in the event, the biggest reason being Christine’s design for the test of courage.
Most people thought, what a novel mixer, I absolutely have to try it out.
The poster showed a burly man three meters tall, wearing a clown mask. It looked absurd, yet it stirred a primal fear inside everyone.
This character came from a short horror story in the Iris Daily, “Chain Saw Maniac.” Back then, the newspaper sold out across the capital because of this clown.
The large-scale dream magic wasn’t particularly complicated, but it involved many spell units, testing a magician’s fundamentals.
Hoo—it’s finally done… Christine took out a handkerchief and wiped the fine beads of sweat from her brow.
The old professor tested the spell and praised, “Well done, Christine. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” This time, her smile was truly heartfelt.
She had done plenty of theoretical preparation, and the placement of the magic materials had been calculated multiple times, just lacking the final spell construction.
Having her efforts recognized was always a joy.
The warm yellow lights of the venue created a cozy atmosphere. The lounge chairs were as soft as clouds, and a heady fragrance filled the air.
The Activities Department had really outdone themselves with the setup.
When everyone had fallen asleep, Christine activated the spell.
Her consciousness plunged into the depths of the dream, and when she awoke again, she found herself transformed into a three-meter-tall figure wearing a clown mask, holding a chain saw powered by a Magic Crystal.
Christine pulled the chain saw with one hand. It roared to life like an awakened beast.
To match the “Chain Saw Maniac” theme, the dream was set in the Baron’s Domain described in the story, complete with a fog-shrouded Castle and several Estates.
She curled her lips. “Let’s enjoy this game.”
From her perspective, all the “survivors” participating in the event were marked in bright blood-red. Even through buildings, she could see their locations clearly.
Dust.
Chain saw.
The students playing survivors were still discussing strategies when, suddenly, there was a booming “Boom—” from the side of the Castle, sending a huge cloud of dust into the air.
The clown smashed through a solid wall with his shoulder, patted the dust off himself, and raised his hand so everyone could see the bizarre grin on the clown mask and the bloodthirsty aura on his body—it all felt so real.
The survivors froze for a moment, then scattered in all directions like chickens fleeing from a farmer.
A noble lady, unable to withstand the shock, collapsed to the ground, her heart utterly gripped by fear.
Another freshman gritted his teeth, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her out of the clown’s line of sight.
Christine pursued them at an unhurried pace. The chain saw’s relentless noise made sure everyone knew where she was at all times.
The dream magic had set everyone’s stats, except hers, to that of an ordinary person—no magic. Their faces hadn’t changed, but their clothes had turned into ragged refugee outfits to distinguish their roles.
If she wished, she could have easily cut everyone in half with the chain saw. But there was no point to that—this was a mixer, after all, meant to promote interaction among the students.
Her role was to act as the common enemy, so they would unite, search the Baron’s Domain for the “Mystery Tool” capable of defeating her, and thus complete the event.
If Christine actually caught anyone, all she’d do was tie them to the Death Sentence Bed, waiting for others to come rescue them.
Psychology has a famous concept known as the “Bridge Effect.” In such an environment, students would quickly form bonds and break the ice—remarkably effective.
Who knows, maybe that pair from earlier would become a couple.
To keep the tension high, she also added several NPCs in the dream. The clown would occasionally find someone and saw them apart, the screams and bloody scenes fueling the fear throughout the group.
The image flashed through Christine’s mind, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
She’d been under a lot of stress lately—this was a perfect way to relax.
“Was the clown really played by the upperclassman? That’s amazing—I couldn’t tell at all, and it fits exactly what I imagined from the story.”
“No way, Christine always seemed so gentle. I never expected…”
“My goodness, at that moment the chain saw was only a hair’s breadth from my lower half! Was that her idea of a joke?”
Facing everyone’s reactions, Christine kept her delicate smile, patiently answering their questions.
All in all, the event had ended successfully. Both new and returning students responded very well, and with no surprises, it would be easy to get approval for similar events in the future.
Speaking of which, the event’s approval from the academy was all thanks to El. After all, as the Principal’s Son, he handled things with thoroughness and made the whole process run smoothly.
When everything was over, Christine walked alone on the path back to the dorm.
She couldn’t help but mind that new student named Theron… Earlier, right in front of her, he had carried a lady away and made a dashing escape.
Don’t get her wrong—she had no special interest in that man.
He was a member of the Lionheart Society, yet he disregarded the rules and attended the Student Council’s event.
That wasn’t a big deal; Christine wouldn’t bother with such things, and if anyone had to discipline him, it should be Pino’s job.
But she discovered that, due to the dream magic, Theron’s soul actually presented two distinct consciousnesses.
As if he were possessed… She wasn’t foolish; she knew something was very wrong here, yet Theron himself seemed completely unaware.
There was something off with the Lionheart Society—or rather, with their leader, Pino Lavad, who must be hiding some deep, dark secret.
Christine had grasped this clue.
She was caught in indecision, unsure whether or not to get involved.
She knew, of course, that Pino and El were enemies. If she could dig up dirt on Pino, El could eliminate him.
But was it worth it? Was El worth all that effort? In the end, he and she were just ordinary classmates.
Yes, she was somewhat fond of El. But honestly, in the whole Empire, what single girl wouldn’t be? It was just a thought—if she was honest, there were no deeper feelings.
Companion.
She couldn’t afford to offend Pino. If El found out about this, the Lionheart would soon realize that the leak had happened at her end.
El… He really was a good person. If possible, she wanted to repay him for his guidance in magic and his gentle company along the way.
Sigh—better to wait and see for now. This wasn’t enough; at the very least, she needed to find ironclad evidence to bring down Pino for good.
Christine kept this matter close to her heart.