"It looks like I’ve developed some kind of... strange magic."

"Already?" Faust raised an eyebrow. "Alright. Do it."

As mana began to gather around his fingertips, Faust’s brows rose.

"Oh... I can perceive your mana now," she said. "It seems you’ve grown enough that I can finally say you have a proper mana capacity."

"Really?"

"Mhm." She nodded once. "Go on."

Lancel nodded and focused. Just as he had shown Countess Gretelle, the same phenomenon occurred. Mana gathered, the Hexencircle formed, and in the next instant, that flash shot out, streaking forward before shattering the window.

Crash——!

For a brief moment, Faust’s eyes widened. Then, just as quickly, her expression returned to normal as she shifted her attention back to him.

"...Setting the window aside. What the hell was that?"

"I was told I don’t have a natural attunement," Lancel said. "Apparently, my attunement is... structure itself."

"...Huh."

Faust stared at him for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"I can’t even say I’m surprised anymore. Everything about you is just... strange." She rubbed her temple lightly. "I don’t even want to think about it."

Lancel let out a small chuckle. The only reason he had shown Faust was because she was his mentor. Out of all the witches who had helped him, she had done the most for him.

So naturally, she was the one he wanted to show his progress to the most. Even if her reaction was lukewarm, he didn’t mind.

He stood up.

"Ah, I’ll be heading out soon. I have an appointment with Duchess Prelati."

"I heard," Faust said. "Looks like you’ll be the first person to step into her garden in nearly a hundred years."

"Seriously?"

"I mean, aside from Ishtar. But still... When you come back, I’ll give you your reward."

"Oh, right. There was that."

"...I wish you’d at least pretend to be excited."

"Oh, yeah! I can’t wait!"

"...."

Lancel turned and walked toward his room. He reached for the doorknob and twisted it open.

"Ah, wait. That’s my—"

The door opened, and Lancel stepped inside before pausing.

"...?"

The room was unfamiliar. This should’ve been his room, but instead, he found himself standing before Faust’s room. It was the first time he had ever seen it, and the sight caught him off guard.

It was... surprisingly girly.

There were small decorations scattered around, and the bed itself was filled with plushies, almost like a child’s room.

For a moment, Lancel just stood there.

...Was Faust missing her childhood or something?

"That’s my room!" Faust said. "Yours is the one near the window. I renovated the place since I figured your old one was too small for a grown man like you!"

But her words barely registered.

Lancel’s gaze had already locked onto something else.

He raised a hand, pointing at the photograph on the table beside her bed.

"Who is that?"

"Huh?" Faust followed his line of sight. Stepping inside, she picked up the photograph and glanced at it. "The little girl is me, and the other one is my sister. Now can you get out?"

"Your... sister?"

"Yes." Faust nodded. "She wasn’t a witch like me. She’s already dead now. So, can you go?"

Lancel’s brows furrowed.

Something about it felt off.

Because for some reason... that girl... Faust’s so-called older sister...

She looked exactly like Leticia.

"...What was your sister’s name?"

"Why are you suddenly so interested?" Faust frowned slightly. "She’s pretty, isn’t she?"

She glanced at the photo again.

"Her name is Vera. Vera Lieber. You remember what I told you before, right? That’s right. Angelica killed her."

"...."

Lancel swallowed deeply. The hair, the bangs, even the way she liked to wear two necklaces at once were the same as Leticia’s.

A chill ran down his spine.

* * *

"We’re here."

That night, Lancel was picked up by Ishtar in her carriage, and the two made their way toward the Prelati estate.

Lancel stepped out first, planting his boots against the gravel path as his eyes lifted to take in the estate before him.

"Is this supposed to be the garden?"

"No," Ishtar replied. "You could think of this as the guest lobby, I guess. Anyway... follow me."

She stepped forward, and almost immediately, servants appeared as if they had been waiting, guiding the two further inside.

It had to be said. This wasn’t where Ishtar currently resided. While she visited from time to time, it was only to report her progress to her master.

Creeeeaaaak——

The imposing entrance to the mansion slowly opened.

If Countess Gretelle’s mansion had already been impressive, then it was nothing compared to this. The Prelati estate didn’t resemble a mansion at all.

The interior was just as overwhelming as the exterior. High ceilings and several floorings were supported by massive pillars carved with elegant patterns.

Chandeliers hung overhead, casting a soft glow that reflected off the shiny floors.

Even Lancel’s steps echoed due to how large the interior was.

"...Wow."

"Really cool, right?"

Servants lined the sides, bowing their heads as the two passed.

"Follow closely," Ishtar said. "You don’t want to get lost here."

"...I can believe that."

They moved deeper into the estate. Corridors split into more corridors. Staircases only kept leading upward, then downward in equal measure. Abstract paintings lined the walls.

Paintings, Lancel could say, were probably worth more than his entire assets.

Eventually, they reached a pair of large doors.

"Wait a moment."

At that moment, Ishtar clasped her hands together. Her body began to glow, and in that instant, she extended a hand as mana flowed out from her palms.

"Master, I’ve brought the guest."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Creeeeak——

Then, slowly, the large doors began to open.

Lancel was immediately taken aback by what he saw.

If this was truly inside the mansion, then it didn’t make sense.

Because beyond those doors, within that so-called garden, he could see the sky, bright and clear, as if it were midday, even though it was already night outside.

And there, seated at the center of a vast grassfield, was a woman with her eyes closed, a small smile resting on her lips.

Her voice was soft and gentle, much like her delicate and petite figure, as it flowed out of her small lips.

"I’ve been expecting you, Lancel."

It was Duchess Prelati.