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... se’s words. Maybe Balmung’s [Stigma] had always operated like a curse. And Betelgeuse had been keeping it under control—somewhat.

It reminded me of what he’d said once—how the Dormant Dragon cadets were beyond faculty control, and he hoped I could keep them in check.

I had no intention of dancing to that tune. But this situation—someone had to end it.

“...Is it a Command, Senior Professor Betelgeuse?”

I asked amid the chaos. Betelgeuse gave a slight nod.

T ...

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Ian smiled with the usual mischievous smirk that he always used. His crimson eyes trailing a little over her room and spotted the black dress over her bed and shifted his eyes over to the woman in front of him. He stepped forward and spoke. “Where did you acquire that dress?”

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