Serinveia’s pupils constricted, her silver hair stirring as if caught in an invisible breeze, a dangerous ripple of spatial energy emanating from her.
“Move aside one last time,” she said, her voice icy. “Or I can’t guarantee what I’ll do.”
Yiserin had never seen Serinveia like this, her blue eyes blazing with madness. She instinctively stepped back but quickly straightened, resolute.
“I won’t move,” Yiserin said, her voice trembling.
Serinveia’s irritation flared at Yiserin’s defiance, but she refrained from harming her. With a flick of her fingers, she vanished and reappeared inside the bedroom.
There, she found a silver-haired, crimson-eyed human girl sitting on the bed.
Iana, pouting, turned her head away. “There, you’ve seen I’m a girl. Stop bothering me.”
Serinveia’s fingers sparked with energy, lifting Iana into the air.
Before Iana could react, she was suspended midair. “Hey! What are you doing? Put me down!” she protested, her delicate feet kicking futilely.
“Are you the one who killed my sister?” Serinveia asked, eyeing the childlike Iana with disbelief.
“What? Killed your sister? Yiserin’s standing right outside!” Iana replied, confused.
Iana’s clueless expression sparked doubt in Serinveia. Iana looked far too young—her sister’s death was ten years ago, before Iana was likely even born.
Yet Serinveia had distinctly sensed that demonic aura from Iana’s room, though now, standing close, she felt nothing.
“Where’s that person?” Serinveia asked coldly.
“Who?” Iana blinked her crimson eyes, curious.
“The demon,” Serinveia snapped, growing impatient.
Iana’s heart skipped a beat. She noticed? Still, she played dumb. “Demon? I didn’t see any.”
A glint of frost flashed in Serinveia’s eyes. She grabbed Iana’s chin, forcing her to look up. “Still playing innocent?”
Iana struggled but couldn’t break free. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Frustrated by Iana’s denial, Serinveia considered taking her for interrogation. The demonic aura had emerged after Iana entered the room—she must be connected.
Just as Serinveia prepared to act, a clear voice rang out.
“Serinveia, stop.”
A tall woman in a magical robe, holding a staff, appeared in the bedroom—Isabella, the dean of Saint Roland Magic Academy, the one who’d forced Serinveia into the student council presidency.
“I never imagined things would escalate this far. You’ve gone too far, Serinveia,” Isabella said, frowning at Iana, suspended in the air.
With a wave of her staff, Isabella dispelled Serinveia’s spatial magic. A gentle energy enveloped Iana, soothing her pain.
Serinveia glared at Isabella. “Are you shielding someone tied to demons, Dean?”
Isabella shook her head, sighing. “Demons aren’t our true enemies. We once had a chance to ally with them.”
Serinveia found this shocking. She’d been raised to see demons as enemies, as had everyone around her.
Now, Isabella claimed otherwise, leaving her stunned.
Seeing her reaction, Isabella said, “It’s normal you don’t know this. You’ll understand in time.”
Serinveia scoffed, pointing at Iana. “I don’t care. I’m taking her.”
She was convinced Iana was linked to the demon who killed her sister. Interrogating her could lead to vengeance.
Isabella regarded the stubborn Serinveia. “One day, you’ll regret this.”
“Go back. You have your own mission to fulfill.”
Serinveia, realizing Isabella was determined to protect Iana, relented reluctantly. “How can I take her?”
Isabella paused, then said, “If you win both the individual and team events of the Sacred Trial, I won’t stop you.”
Serinveia considered, then nodded. “You’d better keep your word.”
With that, she vanished.
Iana, now safe, eyed Isabella warily. Sephiroth had warned her that the Senro Breath Pearl’s concealment was useless against the dean.
“No need to look at me like that. I said demons aren’t our true enemies,” Isabella said calmly. “Besides, I was close with your mother.”
Iana relaxed slightly. If Isabella wanted her dead, she wouldn’t bother with such theatrics.
“I didn’t expect Serinveia to become this unhinged. Her past has scarred her deeply,” Isabella said, rubbing her forehead.
Iana, recalling Isabella’s deal, asked anxiously, “Dean, if Serinveia wins the Sacred Trial, will you really let her take me?”
Isabella smiled. “Of course. I keep my word.”
“But with Serinveia’s strength, winning is a given!” Iana couldn’t think of anyone who could stop her.
Perhaps Ethelrina, with her human bloodline, could—but her bloodline wasn’t awakened yet.
“Who says no one can stop her?” Isabella’s eyes gleamed with appreciation. “I know someone who can defeat Serinveia.”
Curious, Iana asked, “Who? Ethelrina?”
Isabella shook her head. “Not Ethelrina. That person is right beside me.”
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