Roxy stood near the stables, hands neatly folded as she expined the fundamentals of magic to her new student.

  "Magic is divided into three categories: Attack, Heal, and Summon. Each of them has seven stages—Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, Saint, King, Emperor, and God."

  Her voice was calm and steady, the kind of tone she used countless times before when lecturing students.

  But despite her usual patience, her gaze lingered on Rudeus longer than necessary.

  There was something… off.

  Rudeus stood there, not fidgeting, not restless—but unnaturally still.

  His eyes darted around the open space, his fingers lightly trembling despite the warm weather.

  It was subtle, but Roxy had trained herself to notice small details.

  Then, her mind repyed Anastasia’s offhanded remark.

  "Oh no, maybe my brother will turn to ashes."

  Roxy tilted her head slightly, watching as Rudeus tried his best to appear unaffected.

  "Are you not comfortable outside?" she asked, voice gentler this time.

  Rudeus stiffened for a moment.

  For a brief second, he almost nodded instinctively—but then he stopped himself.

  A hesitation, a flicker of defiance.

  He gnced toward the house, as if imagining Anastasia's smug expression if he admitted the truth and ran back inside.

  Roxy didn't miss that look.

  She understood it immediately.

  "No..." Rudeus said weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

  It was a pathetic lie, but a lie nonetheless.

  Roxy adjusted her grip on her staff, standing with perfect posture as she prepared to demonstrate.

  "Alright then, I'll chant as an example. Please follow after me."

  She cleared her throat, about to begin her incantation—

  But Rudeus raised his hand slightly, his expression curious.

  "Um… is chanting necessary?"

  Roxy blinked.

  "Of course it is," she said without hesitation, as if the mere thought of skipping a chant was absurd.

  To prove her point, she lifted her staff, gathering magic at its tip.

  "Upon your wanted pce is the great blessing of water,The refreshing little flow, here and now—Water Ball!"

  A sizable sphere of water formed at her staff's tip before unching forward, colliding with a young tree.

  A satisfying spsh echoed, droplets scattering as the leaves trembled from the impact.

  Roxy lowered her staff with a proud smile.

  "How’s that?" she asked, expecting at least a bit of awe from her student.

  Instead—

  Rudeus' entire body went stiff.

  His eyes widened in sheer terror.

  Then—

  "Sensei—!!!"

  Rudeus spun toward her so fast that Roxy instinctively took a step back.

  "That’s Anastasia’s tree!"

  The panic in his voice was genuine.

  For the first time since arriving, Roxy felt her stomach drop.

  Her head whipped toward the tree.

  Oh.

  Oh no.

  The young tree now had soaked, shuddering leaves—and the ground beneath it had turned into a small puddle.

  Roxy's mind raced.

  Anastasia… the golden-haired girl.

  The elegant, composed, slightly terrifying presence at the dining table.

  She owns this tree?

  The same Anastasia who effortlessly intimidated her with a single gnce?

  Oh no.

  Roxy's expression remained neutral, but internally—

  I’ve made an enemy.

  "Wait, I can fix it!"

  Roxy snatched the broken half of the tree, gripping it like her life depended on it.

  Because, quite frankly—it did.

  She hurriedly prepared a spell, sweat forming on her temple, desperate to undo the damage.

  But before she could begin—

  "Ahh… to think you retaliated by destroying my investments."

  A soft, eerily sweet voice cut through the air like a knife.

  Roxy froze.

  Slowly—very slowly—she turned her head.

  There stood Anastasia.

  Golden locks swayed gently in the breeze, blue eyes calm—too calm.

  Her expression was unreadable.

  But to Roxy—who had just murdered her tree—it felt as if she were standing before a judge, one who was already deciding the method of execution.

  "Look! I can fix this, okay?! Just—just let me—"

  Roxy hurriedly dragged the tree's broken halves together, fumbling as she began chanting.

  "God’s power is nourishing food,Bestow upon one who has lost their power,The power to rise up again.Healing!"

  A soft golden glow enveloped the tree.

  The two halves merged seamlessly, fusing back together as if it had never been broken.

  Not only that—

  Flowers began blooming.

  Tiny buds sprouted, as if the tree had skipped seasons ahead in an instant.

  A miracle.

  A perfect recovery.

  Roxy exhaled sharply, relieved.

  "There!" she said, turning toward Anastasia with a triumphant grin.

  Surely, this would satisfy her, right?

  Wrong.

  Very, very wrong.

  Because Anastasia was not pleased.

  Oh no—

  She looked even more pissed.

  The slight twitch in her brow.The calm smile that somehow looked even more forced.The tiny shift in the air around her—

  It sent chills down Roxy’s spine.

  Rudeus—who had been watching silently until now—took a step back.

  Paul and Zenith? Also taking steps back.

  Even Lilia subtly shifted to the side, as if preparing an escape route.

  Roxy's smile wavered.

  W-wait… why does she look even angrier?

  I fixed it, didn’t I?

  DIDN’T I?!

  "You just messed up my tree’s internal clock."

  Anastasia's voice dropped several octaves, her calmness no longer reassuring—it was chilling.

  The light behind her cast her face in shadow, her golden hair gleaming like a halo, but the air around her was anything but divine.

  Roxy swallowed hard.

  "Not only will it bear premature fruit—"

  A pause.

  A slow, deliberate pause.

  It made every second that passed feel heavier.

  "—those fruits will ck proper nutrients, making them taste off."

  "You’ve also cut its lifespan short."

  Roxy's stomach dropped.

  "Because of your reckless healing, my tree is now out of sync with its surroundings."

  "It will still have leaves when winter arrives."

  "Which means it is as good as dead."

  Roxy felt lightheaded.

  It wasn’t the scolding that affected her.

  It was the depth of Anastasia’s knowledge.

  Roxy was a Saint-ranked mage, a schor—yet she hadn’t even considered such things.

  This girl… is terrifying.

  Her intelligence wasn’t just book smarts—it was instinctive, precise, almost predatory.

  Roxy could only nod dumbly, drenched in sweat.

  "You absolute buffoon!!"

  Anastasia’s voice crashed through the air.

  It wasn’t a scream—it was a decree.

  A mini shockwave burst outward, sending dust, grass, and loose leaves scattering.

  The force blew Roxy's hat off.

  Rudeus had to brace himself.

  Paul shielded his face, muttering, "Jeez, dramatic much?"

  Even Zenith, though trying to remain composed, quietly adjusted her hair.

  The area fell into silence, save for the faint rustling of disturbed grass.

  And then—just as suddenly as she erupted—Anastasia exhaled slowly, regaining her calm.

  She brushed nonexistent dust off her dress and spoke, her tone now eerily casual:

  "Well, whatever."

  "That transgression does not warrant suffering."

  Roxy nearly colpsed in relief.

  Anastasia turned to Paul.

  "Father, I have warmed up earlier."

  Her words were sharp, focused—no longer pyful.

  "I need to train with you to see my progress."

  And with that, she walked away, leaving behind the visible scars of her outburst—both on the nd and in Roxy’s psyche.

  Paul sidestepped, barely avoiding Anastasia’s wooden sword whipping dangerously close to his lower half.

  "Oi, why do you keep aiming there?! That’s dirty fighting!"

  "Victory is victory, Father," Anastasia replied sweetly, twirling her sword with a grace that contrasted her brutality.

  Paul gritted his teeth.

  This wasn’t the usual pyful sparring.

  She was aggressive today.

  Every strike felt heavier, forcing Paul to actively defend, instead of his usual half-assed teaching mode.

  Zenith and Lilia watched from the side.

  Lilia’s arms were crossed, her expression full of pride.

  "She reached this level in only three weeks..."

  Zenith, however, was more focused on Paul’s distressed expression.

  "Is it just me, or is she really trying to destroy his lineage?"

  Lilia stifled a ugh.

  Paul adjusted his stance.

  "Her hits are getting heavier..."

  It wasn’t just natural strength—she was applying precise force, turning even a slim wooden sword into a menace.

  "And that’s the problem."

  The slim sword meant precise thrusts.

  Paul was forced to account for invisible attacks, as Anastasia could strike from blind angles without needing wide swings.

  "Tsk, and that footwork—!"

  She wasn’t just swinging wildly.

  She was forcing him into awkward positions where he’d instinctively lower his guard... right where she was aiming.

  "Oi oi oi—!!!"

  Paul twisted just in time to avoid a thrust aimed directly at his junior.

  "STOP TARGETING THERE!"

  Anastasia’s expression remained calm.

  But her golden eyes gleamed mischievously.

  "Are you scared, Father?"

  Paul paled.

  She was enjoying this.

  Paul staggered back, his wooden sword trembling slightly in his grip.

  "Look, don’t you want a younger sister?!" he bargained desperately, sweat trickling down his forehead.

  If Anastasia really nded that hit... his future would be doomed.

  Anastasia tilted her head, her golden locks swaying elegantly.

  "The prospect of having a younger sister is nice," she mused, her tone dangerously sweet.

  Paul felt a shred of hope—

  Until she smiled.

  "But what does that have to do with my pn of paralyzing you?"

  Paul froze.

  Cold fear crawled up his spine.

  He had forgotten—she was still only three.

  He couldn’t exactly expin human anatomy right now!

  "O-Oi, enough jokes! Let’s finish this!"

  Paul lunged, unching a full-speed attack, hoping to force Anastasia into pure defense.

  Bad idea.

  Anastasia flowed past his strikes like water, her slim wooden sword gliding through gaps in his guard.

  A thrust.

  Straight to his greatest weakness.

  Paul activated Toki, his body blurring backward just in time.

  He nded a few meters away, pale, breathless, and visibly shaken.

  "Tch... monsters are rampaging in the forest tely. I should... check on that."

  He didn't even wait for a response.

  Paul turned, bolted towards Zenith, pnted a quick kiss on her cheek, and—

  Ran.

  Fast.

  So fast that even Rudeus muttered, "Father was never this quick before."

  Zenith blinked, then sighed.

  "What a reliable husband I have."

  Lilia, standing beside her, simply shook her head.

  "Coward."

  Anastasia, watching Paul vanish into the distance, rested her sword on her shoulder and let out a soft, victorious chuckle.