The girl tucked her hair behind her ears. "Nothing particularly funny, really. It's just that his tone seems wittier than before. Is that your influence?"

  "I wish I could take credit," the raven flapped its wings. "Patrick speaks to me with all the formality of a tax collector. It seems only you can get him 'excited.'"

  The red-haired girl chuckled. "So, who won this year?"

  "Moslander always wins the cooking thing. Doranar won the Tower Siege, but those offensive magic types always have an edge. Hmm..." Bella tilted her head. "That's about it. I assume you couldn't care less about the written exams?"

  "You know me too well, Vice Principal." Monica Dunston pulled on her red lace stockings. "What else did you come to tell me? Manipulation magic isn't as hard as transformation, but it still takes a lot of power. Or," she brought her nose to the raven's beak, "have you discovered some magical shortcut to unlimited power?"

  Bella pecked her nose sharply. "Don't talk nonsense, young lady. Nothing in this world is infinite—even the sky and sea have their limits. 'Infinity' is merely a concept defined against the 'finite.' We must respect magic as we respect nature itself. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?" She hopped onto the girl's upturned toes. "I went through all this trouble with manipulation magic simply to see you. I didn't expect a few months away would turn you into such an arrogant little brat."

  "Come on, Bella. It was just a joke. Don't get all serious with your impractical philosophical lectures." Monica tugged at her stockings. "By the way, there's something I need to ask you, and please don't lie to me." The red-haired girl searched for her bra, her expression turning grave. "How many Godma soldiers are outside Cynthia?"

  "Well..." Bella hesitated. "Actually, that's one reason I came to see you." Her restless talons landed on Monica's chest.

  "Hey! Watch the claws! This bra cost a fortune."

  Bella's hesitation tested Monica Dunston's patience. "What is it? Spit it out!" she urged. "Is it really bad?"

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The raven flew to her exposed shoulder. "At least... that's what I believe." The girl turned her head slightly. "There are approximately 200,000 Godma troops surrounding Cynthia."

  "Two hundred thousand?!" Her bra slipped from her modest chest. "They outnumber us two to one! How could Patrick tell me not to worry and stay on vacation?!" She frantically grabbed the fallen undergarment. "No, I have to go back. Right now—"

  "Slow down, young lady. Have you forgotten? A sorceress never acts impulsively." The raven gripped Monica's tied-up hair, pulling her back onto the bed. "The Cynthian court doesn't need magic right now. If they do, there are other advisors, and Saint Asini will do everything it can. So don't panic..."

  "But," the girl protested, emotion cracking her voice, "I'm the kingdom's court mage! How can I just sit here while my country's in danger? I'm a Cynthian!"

  "I know, Monica," Bella sighed heavily. "I knew once I told you the truth, you'd react like this." She continued soothingly, "The situation is far from critical. The southerners have besieged the city for months without finding a way in. Both Patrick and I believe they won't breach Cynthia before winter. They might even abandon the siege altogether. Patrick mentioned you haven't seen your friend in over a decade—use this opportunity to reconnect and enjoy your break. The kingdom doesn't need a young girl worrying over matters beyond her control."

  "Why do I feel like you're trying to keep me away?" Monica asked suspiciously. "Is this Patrick's idea or yours? Bella, what aren't you telling me?"

  "It's not about whose idea it is," the raven shook her head. "Patrick simply wants you to enjoy an untroubled vacation. Even I can see how deeply he cares for his childhood friend. Surely you understand his intentions?"

  Monica Dunston froze like a clockwork toy running out of momentum. "...Perhaps," she said quietly. "I'll stay in Brigar for now. But on one condition: you must tell me everything without reservation. Not a single lie!"

  The Vice Principal blinked reluctantly before agreeing. "In truth, we know little more than most. Queen Claire has completely abandoned Cynthia's outskirts, leaving scorched earth behind. The fields within the city walls can't feed the entire population, and even with grain stockpiled from the countryside, prices have skyrocketed. But don't worry—the academy students are well-fed. As for the military—"

  The raven's beak opened, but no sound emerged. "Yes?" Monica prompted. "What about the military?"

  "The military... the military..." the raven repeated, her voice growing increasingly hoarse. "Bella! What's wrong?" The red-haired girl cupped the bird in her hands. "Keep talking!"

  Suddenly, the raven let out a piercing cry and began thrashing violently. Its claws pricked Monica's hands, forcing her to release it. Once free, the bird flew straight out the window without a backward glance. "Bella?" Monica Dunston stood there, shocked and bewildered.