A dark night.
In the dead of night, when all the world lay sleeping, the Drnaris Ducal House had fallen into silence as well.
But there were those who moved within that silence.
Swish—thud.
Like shadows given form, they slipped over the towering estate walls and melted into the manor without a sound.
Not a single footfall betrayed them. These were the elite operatives of the Black Serpent, the assassin's guild.
They were famous for killing anyone, so long as the price was right.
The only thing that mattered to them was the size of the fee. The identity of the target was irrelevant.
Even so, this particular contract had them on edge in a way they couldn't quite suppress.
And with good reason—their mark this time was none other than the infamous witch, Aiolette Drnaris.
Over the past three years, countless assassins had attempted to kill the witch. Not one had succeeded.
What made it truly unsettling was that not a single one of those assassins had survived to report back. No one knew how the witch had stopped them.
Under normal circumstances, a contract this ominous wasn't worth touching.
But the payment was obscene.
Enough that if they pulled this off, every last member of the Black Serpent could retire and live out the rest of their days in comfort.
So the Black Serpent had decided to make this their final job—and had prepared for it more thoroughly than anything before. Moving with greater care than they had ever shown, they reached the annex where Aiolette resided. One of them reached into his coat and produced a small white bell, then shook it gently in the air.
Ting—
In that instant, an invisible ripple spread outward and dismantled every security spell woven into the estate. The magic item known as the Bell of Repose—a rare artifact the Black Serpent had kept in reserve for exactly this moment.
Its effect was simple: one ring, and every spell within a set radius was nullified. It came with the drawback of being unusable for a full year after activation, but for this contract, the Black Serpent had resolved to hold nothing back.
Confirming that the security spells had been cleanly dispelled, the assassins picked the lock on the annex door and slipped inside.
The annex was dark, every light extinguished, swallowed entirely by shadow.
The assassins moved through the darkness with practiced ease, making their way toward the second-floor room where Aiolette slept.
And then.
"What a lovely sound, that bell."
"—!"
Crack-crack-crack!
The sudden voice sent the assassins scattering in an instant, putting distance between themselves and the source.
In the middle of the darkened corridor, where even moonlight couldn't reach, a girl stood leaning on a worn walking stick.
Long white hair that fell to her waist. A figure with soft, full curves. A beautiful face that gave off an air of quiet mystery.
She was on the Black Serpent's list.
Gladia—the witch Aiolette's personal maid.
The witch's closest attendant, said to never leave Aiolette's side.
Thud—
Gladia slowly raised her hand and tapped the tip of her walking stick lightly against the floor.
Then she smiled pleasantly and looked toward the assassins.
"Guests at this hour of the night… how terribly ill-mannered. I'm afraid my young lady has already retired for the evening."
She said it with a gentle smile.
Utterly composed, standing before the Black Serpent's finest without a trace of alarm.
The sight of it put the assassins' leader on high alert.
He held his subordinates' gaze and gave a silent signal.
*All at once. Fast. Take her down.*
The moment his hand signal dropped, the attack began.
Dozens of throwing needles flew toward Gladia—each one coated in a lethal poison that would kill on contact.
His subordinates surged in from every direction in perfect coordination.
Clang—!
A brief ring of metal echoed through the corridor.
"Wh—"
The leader couldn't believe his own eyes.
Gladia, who should have been riddled with needles and crumpling to the floor, was standing right in front of his face—having passed through his subordinates as though they weren't there.
In her hand was a sharp blade, drawn from within the walking stick.
*When did she—?!*
The moment his shock registered, his subordinates collapsed behind her in unison, as if on cue, each one spraying blood.
The leader threw himself backward on instinct, and in that instant he knew with bone-deep certainty:
This was not someone they could handle.
He'd assumed the witch's maid wouldn't be ordinary—but this was something else entirely.
Even as the realization hit him, the leader didn't stop moving. He hurled a rapid volley of throwing needles at Gladia while simultaneously scattering a smoke screen across the floor.
His plan was to break away and regroup.
But.
"Too slow."
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
Every needle that flew toward Gladia was batted aside without effort.
Then she swung her blade, and the pressure of the swing alone scattered the smoke screen as if it had never existed.
She accelerated in an explosive burst and brought her sword down toward him.
The leader felt the blade coming for his throat with perfect clarity.
Death, closing in with no room to escape.
In that extreme tension where time seemed to stretch and slow, just as the blade was about to reach his neck—
Flash—!
A blinding light erupted from inside his coat. His body dissolved into a halo of radiance and reappeared behind Gladia, just beyond the reach of her sword.
The second magic item he'd brought for this contract—the Fairy Wing—had activated.
A single-use survival artifact that forcibly teleported its bearer before a fatal blow could land.
But even the treasure's power couldn't fully deflect Gladia's strike. A line of red was already running down the leader's neck from the wound he hadn't quite escaped.
The moment he registered that the Fairy Wing had fired, the leader reacted without hesitation. He pulled every explosive he was carrying and hurled them all at Gladia.
*Good thing I brought these just in case!*
They were hardly fitting tools for an assassin, whose entire trade depended on silence—but he'd packed them as a last resort, and right now they were nothing short of a lifeline.
Gladia reacted, deflecting the incoming explosives in an instant—but the thick smoke that billowed out in the blast wrapped around her.
Hidden among the explosives were the Black Serpent guild's proprietary poison smoke grenades. While they bought him a precious second, the leader didn't hesitate—he ran straight past her and sprinted up the stairs toward Aiolette's room on the second floor.
*All I need is to kill Aiolette—!*
Even if that monster of a woman killed him afterward, it didn't matter. As long as the contract was confirmed complete, the enormous payment would be delivered to his comrades back at the guild. That meant it wouldn't be a meaningless death.
With that desperate resolve, he took the stairs three at a time, threw open Aiolette's door, and lunged inside.
But what waited beyond the door was not the unguarded bedroom of a sleeping girl. Pitch-black darkness—absolute, impenetrable—was waiting for him.
Something about that darkness was wrong. The leader stopped in spite of himself.
No matter how hard he strained to see into it, there was nothing. Only darkness, filling his entire field of vision—like the inside of some enormous creature's mouth.
That was the last thought he had.
Crunch.
The sound of something hard being chewed and swallowed—and then the leader's consciousness simply stopped.
***
I dispersed the poison smoke filling the corridor with a casual wave of my hand.
The situation seemed more or less wrapped up, but I hadn't sheathed my sword yet.
Still—I should confirm with my own eyes that my young lady was all right.
I walked at an unhurried pace to Aiolette's room on the second floor.
On the floor in front of the door, the assassin's dagger lay abandoned.
I nudged it aside with my foot and knocked lightly.
Knock knock.
"My lady~ It's me, I'm coming in~!"
Bang!
I didn't wait for an answer before throwing the door open.
Inside, my young lady was lying in bed as though nothing had happened at all, watching me with distinctly displeased eyes.
Mm. Not a scratch on her, as expected.
Naturally. This was Aiolette mk.42, raised with my full dedication.
Performance guaranteed.
Having confirmed she was unharmed, I slid my sword back into the walking stick.
The moment the blade was sheathed, my vision flooded back to darkness—but I paid it no mind and settled into the chair beside her bed with practiced ease.
Something about my young lady's presence felt distinctly irritated, though… was she annoyed that I'd barged in?
"You—! You let that trash through on purpose!"
Ah. She'd caught me slacking.
"My sincerest apologies, my lady. I hadn't anticipated them bringing two magic items. Thanks to that, I'm afraid I've disturbed your precious sleep."
I bowed my head with practiced innocence.
"Don't lie to me! There's no way you'd let garbage like that slip past you! You were testing me again, weren't you—you sneakily sent them up here on purpose!!"
Dear me. Three years together and she knows me far too well. But moments like this call for even more confidence. I pressed a hand to my chest and summoned the voice of the world's most devoted attendant.
"You misunderstand, my lady. I simply had faith that our noble young lady would dispatch a mere assassin without difficulty, even in the middle of sleep. And indeed, my judgment was not wrong. The grace with which you dealt with that pest while barely awake—it was a sight worthy of the empire's history books."
"Grace?! Don't stand there and lie to my face! You lazy good-for-nothing!"
Ah, where had that easily-fooled young lady of three years ago gone.
Aiolette pounded her blankets in frustration.
After a good while of it, she seemed to settle, and began breathing more evenly with a few residual huffs.
"Now, now—feeling better, my lady? If you work yourself up too much, you might sleep in. Tomorrow is the day we leave for the Imperial Capital."
"If you'd just done your job properly, I'd already be asleep! Honestly… you get more shameless by the day."
She clicked her tongue, but pulled the blanket up over her head all the same. There was irritation in her grumbling voice—but underneath it lay something solid and unshakeable: trust in me.
And that was only natural.
Over the past three years, I had trained my young lady with everything I had, and in return she had gained a strength that bore no resemblance to what she'd once been.
From beneath the blanket, she lowered it just enough to speak, her voice quiet.
"Who were they this time?"
"An assassin's guild called the Black Serpent. Known for taking any job, so long as the coin is right."
"Hmph. Someone must be getting desperate, if they're resorting to that sort of rabble."
The contempt in her voice was plain. The girl who had trembled at the mere mention of her siblings' names three years ago was gone.
"I imagine they're anxious because once you enroll in the Academy, there won't be any more opportunities to reach you."
I already knew who had sent the Black Serpent, of course.
It could only be Aiolette's siblings. They had made countless attempts over the past three years, and every single one had ended in failure.
Tonight had been their last chance.
Over these three years, my young lady and I had systematically dismantled everything they had—every resource, every ally, every avenue of attack.
What remained of them now was barely a pulse. And once we enrolled in the Academy, it would all be over.
Sending assassins into the Academy was unthinkable under imperial law, and the moment my young lady completed her studies and formally inherited the Drnaris house upon her return, their last thread would be cut entirely.
The internal affairs of the Drnaris house were nearly settled.
All that remained was to leave this ducal estate behind and make for Stellar Academy—the center of everything, where the story truly began.
I tucked the blanket carefully around my young lady as she lay in bed, then gently stroked her hair.
Even in her sulking, she didn't pull away from my hand—she simply lay still and let me.
Three years of living side by side, of crossing life-and-death thresholds together. It was impossible not to grow fond of her.
"Sleep well, my sun. I'll come to wake you in the morning."
"……Shut up. Turn the light off when you leave."
I left the room to the sound of her muffled grumbling from beneath the blanket.
*Everything is ready.*
Tomorrow, we would finally set out for the Imperial Capital—and the Academy waiting there.
Aiolette Drnaris, who had been nothing more than a side character in the original story. Now she was the Witch of Drnaris, someone no one could afford to take lightly—and the finest investment I had ever made.
My heart was already quickening at the thought of what kind of light she would shine with, on the brilliant stage of *Saintess & Hero*.