“Aivira!”
Alberte returned to her original form and quickly rushed to Aivira’s side, crouching down to check her condition.
Aivira’s body was now covered in countless spikes of varying lengths and thicknesses. These spikes had burst forth from within her, tearing through her skin and rising outward. Each spike was coated in a black, sticky mucus that mixed with her blood, trickling slowly down the sharp tips.
Her breathing and pulse had completely stopped—though anyone could tell without needing to check. No ordinary person could survive having such a massive magical spear run through their body.
“Damn it!”
Alberte stood up in fury. She strode over to Beatrice, her right hand already transformed into a massive fist the size of a sandbag, ready to punch her square in the face.
But Beatrice wasn’t the type to just let herself be hit. She casually snapped her fingers, and in an instant, a tentacled boundary demon appeared behind Alberte. Just as Alberte’s punch was about to land, the demon’s tentacle wrapped tightly around her fist, stopping it midair.
“You didn’t have to go that far, Professor Eisenberg!” Alberte glared coldly at her.
She had only intended to knock Aivira out—then figure out another way to handle the situation. But she hadn’t expected Beatrice to act so decisively, to kill her without a second thought. It was clear she didn’t care about the student’s life at all.
“I killed her? Last I heard, a dragon’s eyes are sharp enough to spot an ant from a hundred miles away. Are your slit pupils nearsighted or something?”
“She was already being tortured to death by those spikes before you attacked her. If I hadn’t stepped in and killed the creature inside her in time, things would’ve only gotten worse.”
“Wasn’t there any other way to save her? Damn it!”
Alberte lowered her head in frustration, clenching both fists tightly. This was the first time a student had died right in front of her—while she stood by, powerless to stop it.
“Hah. If you’ve got time to stand there whining, how about you put it to use and examine her body properly?”
Beatrice floated past her lightly on her broom and came to a stop before the corpse. She reached out and began peeling back the torn, bloody flesh.
“So that’s how it is. It’s here.”
She reached into the body and, right before their eyes, yanked out one of Aivira’s organs.
The spikes that had protruded from Aivira’s body immediately retracted as soon as she removed it. Beatrice withdrew her hand, revealing a damaged heart in her grasp.
Moments after it was pulled out, the heart began to harden in her palm, gradually reshaping itself into the form of a small bell.
Ding-ling-ling…
She gave it a couple of light shakes, but nothing seemed to happen.
“Hmph.”
She tossed the bloodstained bell in front of Alberte and said coldly, “Here. Take it.”
The bell struck the ground with a crisp sound and rolled across the floor, leaving behind a trail of blood. It finally came to a stop when it bumped against the heel of Alberte’s high-heeled shoe.
“Let’s just say I went out of my way to help you this time. Be sure to add a bonus to my pay.”
Beatrice gave a tug on the kneeling Aurora beside her.
Seeing no response, Beatrice turned her gaze toward Aurora.
Aurora was completely out of it by now. Kneeling on the ground, she stared blankly at Aivira’s corpse, tears streaming down her face as she muttered something under her breath again and again.
“Have you cried enough?”
Beatrice gave a firm tug on the chain around Aurora’s neck, forcibly pulling her to her feet.
“Aivira… why… did this happen to her…”
Her voice was weak, her steps unsteady as she staggered toward Aivira’s body.
But the chain wrapped around her once more, binding her in place—no matter how much she struggled, she could not reach Aivira’s side.
“We’re going back.”
Beatrice hoisted her onto the broom without giving her a chance to resist and flew out of the office, not even glancing back once.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
All the way back, Aurora kept repeating those three words over and over.
She blamed herself for Aivira’s death. She believed it was the curse on her that had brought ruin to those around her. The thought of ending her own life returned—this time stronger than ever.
“I need to atone… I have to atone…”
Without a sound, a golden arrow materialized in her hand. She slowly raised it to her chest, the tip pressing against her heart as she began to push it in—little by little.
“Aurora!”
The broom came to a sudden halt in midair. In the next instant, the chain coiled tightly around Aurora’s body, restraining her completely and stopping her from taking any further action.
Beatrice snatched the golden arrow from Aurora’s hand and flung it into the air, letting it fall to the ground below.
She gripped Aurora’s face tightly with one hand, her expression ice-cold and her voice laced with barely restrained fury.
“Aurora, what the hell are you doing again!?”
“I… I have to atone… I must atone…”
Aurora’s state of mind was clearly unstable—eerily similar to how Aivira had looked moments before.
Seeing her like this, something clicked in Beatrice’s mind.
“That bell!”
That cursed bell… it seemed to amplify a person’s deepest desires.
Aivira’s desire had been to gain recognition from others.
Aurora’s desire was to atone for all her sins.
And Beatrice’s desire was…
“Damn it. So the effect was delayed…”
Beatrice’s heart began to race. Every time she looked at Aurora, a searing fire surged inside her, impossible to suppress. Her cheeks flushed hot, and her breathing grew uneven.
“Tch. The sky’s no place for this sort of thing.”
She steered the broom sharply toward the mansion. When they arrived, she didn’t bother using the front door—just as before, she flew directly into her bedroom through the second-floor window.
The fire in her chest only blazed hotter.
Aurora was thrown roughly onto the bed. Her entire body remained bound, unable to move, and her spirit was already crumbling on the edge of guilt and despair. She looked more like a lifeless doll now—no matter what was done to her, she wouldn’t show a hint of resistance.
“Please kill me… Master… I beg you…”
Tears brimmed in Aurora’s eyes as she lay beneath Beatrice. There was no trace of hope in her gaze—only the deep, spiraling abyss of guilt reflected in her dark pupils.
Beatrice snatched the golden arrow from Aurora’s hand and flung it into the air, letting it fall to the ground below.
She gripped Aurora’s face tightly with one hand, her expression ice-cold and her voice laced with barely restrained fury.
“Aurora, what the hell are you doing again!?”
“I… I have to atone… I must atone…”
Aurora’s state of mind was clearly unstable—eerily similar to how Aivira had looked moments before.
Seeing her like this, something clicked in Beatrice’s mind.
“That bell!”
That cursed bell… it seemed to amplify a person’s deepest desires.
Aivira’s desire had been to gain recognition from others.
Aurora’s desire was to atone for all her sins.
And Beatrice’s desire was…
“Damn it. So the effect was delayed…”
Beatrice’s heart began to race. Every time she looked at Aurora, a searing fire surged inside her, impossible to suppress. Her cheeks flushed hot, and her breathing grew uneven.
“Tch. The sky’s no place for this sort of thing.”
She steered the broom sharply toward the mansion. When they arrived, she didn’t bother using the front door—just as before, she flew directly into her bedroom through the second-floor window.
The fire in her chest only blazed hotter.
Aurora was thrown roughly onto the bed. Her entire body remained bound, unable to move, and her spirit was already crumbling on the edge of guilt and despair. She looked more like a lifeless doll now—no matter what was done to her, she wouldn’t show a hint of resistance.
“Please kill me… Master… I beg you…”
Tears brimmed in Aurora’s eyes as she lay beneath Beatrice. There was no trace of hope in her gaze—only the deep, spiraling abyss of guilt reflected in her dark pupils.