Far from Belgrade's city center, where Frey currently was…
Inside the silent temple, where only streetlamps lit the vacant roads past midnight…
Within the Elite Dormitory, a young maid walked quietly through the corridors where the students slept.
She gently opened one of the doors to check on the person she was assigned to care for.
But the bed was empty.
"My lady?"
She called out, scanning the room.
The place was dark, so she instinctively reached for the light switch… but nothing happened.
It was as if a cocoon of darkness had swallowed every source of light.
"My lady, where are you?"
She asked again, forming a blade of wind aura in her left hand—hidden behind her back.
Eyes wary, she surveyed the surroundings, ready for anything.
But then a chilling laugh echoed through the room.
The sound didn't come from one place. It came from everywhere ... all at once.
It wasn't the gentle voice of the princess she was used to serving.
It was the laugh of a wicked witch.
That was the terrifying part ... the way it resonated from every corner of the darkness around her. As if dozens of voices were laughing in unison.
The maid tensed, completely thrown off by the eerie situation.
"My lady… please… come back to your senses."
The maid pleaded with her lady ... and the reply came swiftly, whispered right beside her ear.
"Why?"
Every hair on the maid's body stood on end as the battle-hardened servant lashed out toward the voice, only to slice through empty air.
"Wrong! Try again!"
"Over here!"
"Here~!"
In her growing panic, the maid didn't realize how completely the darkness had enveloped the room. Every source of light had been smothered.
She began to feel something circling her, the sound of the princess's voice echoing from all directions. No matter where she turned, she couldn't find her.
A suffocating pressure squeezed her chest ... fear and confusion wrapping around her like chains. Instinct drove her to flee, but it was too late. She was already surrounded.
Then, without warning, the princess screamed:
"Time's up!"
Like a game ending ... or a turn coming to a close.
The maid hadn't found the princess… and now it was the princess's turn to find her.
With a playful tone, Sansa's voice echoed through the darkness.
"My turn~"
In an instant, the maid's eyes widened. Something brushed her heart in a flash of unnatural sensation.
She glanced down ... and saw nothing.
But she felt it.
Dozens of jagged, spear-like tendrils erupted from the void and pierced her body, her blood mixing with the shadow, forming a formless, colorless sludge that dissolved into the darkness.
She died instantly, still standing.
And the princess? She had been standing right in front of her the whole time ... wearing her nightdress, a wide smile stretched across her face.
Though in that abyssal darkness, no one could see it.
But one victim wasn't enough. She wanted more .. needed more. Fortunately, the Elite Dormitory was full of people to play with.
She was just about to move… when something tore through the darkness and sent her flying backward.
He appeared like a ghost.
His crimson eyes scanned the maid's lifeless body, then flicked to the princess.
There was no way to read his expression beneath that mask—but his eyes said enough.
He clenched his daggers and cursed under his breath.
"Why… why did it have to be now of all times?"
Why did she lose control… only when he wasn't there to stop it?
"Come play with me~"
Sansa giggled, her presence vanishing as her voice danced through the shadows.
But Oliver Khan stood firm, eyes tracking something darting through the black.
"Come back to your senses, Sansa… this isn't you."
He paused, then corrected himself, adjusting his stance.
"Actually… it's best if you don't ...You're not ready to bear the weight of taking a life."
No sooner had he spoken than the same sharp tendrils of shadow surged toward him. But he was already gone ...vanishing, only to reappear behind the princess.
With a clean swing, he tried to end it right then ... but her hardened shadows blocked his blade completely.
"…"
He attacked again. So did the shadows.
Sansa darted like a demon through her veil of black, and they clashed in bursts of speed. Her projectiles were fast—faster than most could react—but they never touched him.
And Oliver… couldn't break through her ironclad defense.
"She's gotten stronger…"
He analyzed the fight coldly.
Though he wasn't going all out, it didn't change the truth: Sansa had just fended off a fully awakened SS ranked opponent.
An impossible feat under normal circumstances.
But it was happening now.
Those cursed black tendrils closed in, joined by dozens of thorned spikes meant to kill him, just as they had the maid.
Oliver crossed his daggers, his crimson eyes flashing.
Aura surged violently around him ... and in an instant, he moved faster than the eye could follow.
His arms danced like serpents, weaving dozens of explosive blue lines through the air.
One strike ..faster than lightning ,ripped the darkness apart, carving through the veil of shadow and dragging the terrified princess out of her lair.
His dagger left a deep red gash across her chest, and she collapsed unconscious into his arms.
Oliver gritted his teeth, holding Sansa's limp body close ... the same girl he had just struck down.
With the darkness gone, the light returned ... revealing the catastrophic destruction left in their wake.
Sansa's shadows had cloaked everything—silent, suffocating, absolute.
But when the light returned… the truth was laid bare. The place was devastated.
The wound Oliver had carved into Sansa's chest slowly faded, vanishing completely without even leaving a scar.
He had made sure not to strike too deep.
But that kind of recovery ...instantaneous, flawless was not something a human should be capable of.
And yet, that wasn't the real problem.
The true issue… was that someone had died tonight.
"You've crossed the line, Oliver Khan."
A third voice spoke from the darkness, though Oliver had sensed his presence long before.
"I know," he replied simply ...still holding Sansa in his arms.
Behind him stood the head of the temple.
Ivar Valerion.
He had witnessed everything.
"Her powers are beyond control," Ivar said coldly.
Oliver's reply came firm and immediate.
"It's too early to say that."
"No. It's not.
Look beneath your feet, at the blood.
Look at the maid's corpse lying in front of you. Isn't that enough?"
"…"
A long silence followed.
Then Ivar sighed.
"You know what must be done."
Oliver remained stubborn ... he always was when it came to Sansa.
But this… this wasn't a decision he could make alone.
He nodded.
"I know."
His gaze dropped to the unconscious girl in his arms.
"There's no place left for her in this temple anymore…"