Rayan traced his way across the northern sector of the academy grounds.

A vast, barren stretch of land dotted with medium-sized buildings whose structures were mostly open, allowing sunlight and wind to pass through freely, as though the place prioritized practicality over comfort.

Throughout his exploration in that area, he noticed that most of the academy's occupants were gathered inside those open buildings.

They were chatting idly, exchanging gossip, and lounging around, seeking shade from the harsh blaze of the midday sun.

They behaved as if absolutely nothing mysterious or out of place had occurred there at all.

From everything I can see, these people look perfectly normal. And they seem like local residents, he thought calmly.

Hmph… Based on the information, the members of the cannibal organization Thalamiria Sacrament mostly come from Mirianmar.

That means these people aren't them.

He proceeded to approach several groups of muscular, bald-headed student.

He hoped that perhaps one or two groups might accidentally mention something about Daraka or the cannibal organization lurking behind all of this.

However, after listening to several groups for some time,

The majority of their conversations revolved solely around trivial matters and taboo topics—nothing even remotely relevant to the mission they were undertaking.

Tch… these kids seriously waste their entire brains thinking only about women and hedonistic things. They're still way too young for that,

He grumbled inwardly, a slight disgust curling in his chest.

People like these are the ones who truly deserve to be cursed. Yet somehow we are the ones burdened with the curse.

He then headed westward, toward what appeared to be an area designated for light activities.

A massive cafeteria towered there—its structure large, tall, and unmistakably central to daily student life.

At the moment, it was occupied by several groups of students, staff members, and other workers such as the cleaning crew and the security team.

He went there and repeated the same approach, moving group by group just as before.

And once again, the result remained unchanged: not a single conversation discussed, hinted at, or even brushed close to anything related to Daraka or the cannibal organization.

But as he observed the area more seriously, he clearly detected faint traces of Helos energy dispersed through the air.

The energy was noticeable through magical detection and was also visible as tiny particulate glimmers filtered through his specialized optical device.

Hmph… some people here have an affinity with Helos. But this energy floating in the air isn't theirs, he analyzed sharply.

Their affinity is probably just because they've killed innocent beings before—or at least done other cursed things.

After all, these students carry a reputation as killers. Whether that's true or just a rumor… I still don't know.

And this energy is far more sinister than anything they should be capable of producing.

After thinking for a long while, an idea sparkled faintly in his mind.

Ah… that's right. I can do that, he said inwardly.

I hope this works.

He quietly approached a group of students who were enjoying their lunch and casual chatter.

Leaning forward, he positioned his face close to one of the students—the one who seemed to talk the most among them.

A faint black energy flickered across Rayan's lips, and with a subtle, fluid motion, he whispered a few words toward the boy.

"Shaman… robed… organization… assassins." he whispered softly, his voice so thin it could barely be called a sound.

The whisper took the form of a dark, smoky cluster of energy that drifted directly into the student's ear; like an invisible wisp, the energy slipped inside him effortlessly.

He had just activated a unique skill:

Skill: Devil Whisper

A spell performed by whispering with a voice that cannot be heard by the target's ears, but instead is transmitted straight into their mind.

A sorcery technique that allows the user to implant mental suggestion into the receiver.

Causing the person who is successfully influenced to be subconsciously consumed by the key words they were given, unable to shake them from their thoughts.

And sure enough, only a few seconds later—

"Oh, right… aren't you guys even a little curious about that shaman and the robed group?" he suddenly asked.

The others reacted with visible surprise at the abrupt shift in topic, and even more so because the subject he brought up was a forbidden one.

One of them, the largest and most heavily built of the group—likely the leader, or at least the one with the strongest dominance—slammed his palm onto the table.

"Why are you suddenly bringing that up? You know that's a forbidden topic right now!" he barked.

His tone carried irritation, but it was clear he was holding himself back from raising his voice.

The student under suggestion recoiled, nearly falling off his chair. He himself had no idea why he brought it up so suddenly.

But one thing was clear: his mind now felt gnawed at by the words shaman, robed organization, and assasins—those very words clung to his thoughts, refusing to disappear.

"W-Wait, no. I-I just… thought of it all of a sudden. I was just curious," he said defensively. "I don't really understand much about it, anyway."

He then straightened his posture.

"Besides, it's just us here, so I figured it would be fine to talk about it. We all already know quite a bit about those people anyway," he added.

The leader seemed to accept that reasoning—at least enough to let it slide.

"Ah… you idiot!" he snapped lightly. "Don't talk about nonsense like that."

He tried to cut the topic off before anyone could continue it.

The suggested student still felt an urge pushing at his heart to keep talking, but the fear he had toward that dominant figure made him swallow the impulse. He looked visibly conflicted.

Fortunately for him, another student—one who wasn't under any suggestion—decided to speak up.

"Well… I'm kind of curious too. It shouldn't be a problem for us to talk about it, right?" he said with genuine interest.

"I mean… what, we can't even discuss it when it's just us here?" he added, still curious.

That alone piqued the others' interest. Some nodded, while others didn't know how to respond.

The group's leader hesitated. Of course, his own curiosity was itching as well.

A group of shamans and a cluster of people in strange robes showing up in their academy—that was an event significant enough to stir anyone's interest.

He tapped his fingers against the wooden table several times, scanning the surroundings to make sure no one was near enough to overhear.

Their position was tucked into the far corner of the cafeteria hall, far from the other occupied tables.

The wild, untamed spirit of youth—one that hated restriction and loved defiance—seemed to pound at his chest, whispering:

Why should you be scared? Why let anyone control you? You've always lived freely.

And with that, he exhaled deeply before nodding with a sly grin.

"You're right. I guess it's fine, haha. I've been itching to talk about it too," he said resolutely.

"Besides, we're only talking about it, not doing anything else. What's the harm in that?" he added.

That, of course, lifted everyone's spirits. With the leader's approval, their reluctance and fear seemed to melt away.

Including the suggested student—he looked the most delighted of them all. Fortunately, before he could start celebrating, the leader raised a hand, giving a short instruction.

He leaned his face forward, signaling that the conversation should be held in whispers.

"But remember… don't let anyone else know. Okay?" he warned lightly.

The others nodded in agreement and leaned in as well.

Rayan, watching them from the side, smiled at how easily they took the bait. He sharpened and focused his hearing while still keeping his eyes on the area around him.

And so the forbidden conversation began. Or rather, gossip. They shared what they knew, sprinkled with assumptions and mild exaggerations.

Among the pieces of information Rayan highlighted was the confirmation that the shaman and the robed organization had indeed come there.

None of them knew the names, but their descriptions matched the information Sebastian had given.

Sir Sebastian was right—they're really here, Rayan thought as he continued listening.

The students continued explaining that apparently those people were still somewhere in the academy this afternoon, though none of them knew exactly where.

One of them, however, assumed that they were hiding in a secret bunker beneath the lighthouse hall, because he had accidentally seen several people heading in that direction.

Rayan immediately checked the map Gala had prepared inside his optical device.

Several buildings still lacked clear information because Gala hadn't been able to analyze them thoroughly from the outside.

He found data on a southern-side structure—a tall building Gala had barely managed to capture—but the map only indicated a ten percent likelihood of its existence.

He turned his gaze toward that direction, trying to confirm whether the building actually existed or not.

And from afar, though the view was slightly blurred by some interference, Rayan could still clearly see the towering structure.

It resembled an old lighthouse that had been renovated and turned into an assembly hall, some sort of iconic building.

With further analysis, he detected massive energy waves concentrated there, and the building was protected by layered physical and illusionary barriers—far stronger than those outside.

That must be the building they were referring to, Rayan concluded. Even Gala had trouble analyzing it.

He intended to contact Gala to verify it again so they wouldn't take the wrong step, but right then, a message signal from Fatar arrived, stating that he had found a large, tall structure containing a massive amount of dark magical energy.

Ah… so it really is that one, he murmured, now certain.

But he didn't rush there yet, especially since replies from Gala and the others hadn't arrived.

Which meant the follow-up plan for that building was still unclear—whether they would enter it for investigation or not.

He listened closely to the conversation between those students once again, hoping—perhaps a bit too optimistically—to extract some valuable information from their idle chatter.

Instead of receiving anything helpful, what he obtained was an unexpectedly irritating piece of news.

"I'm not sure whether it's true or not. But apparently they're preparing something for an incoming new student here," one of the boys said.

"So it's true that there's going to be a new student?" another asked.

"No idea. What I heard from some other guys who supposedly have more info is that the kid comes from an elite school," the student replied.

"An elite kid coming to this place? No wonder people are making a fuss." the leader asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"But what does that have to do with those shamans? What are they planning to do to him?" he added.

The student who supposedly had the most knowledge only shook his head, indicating he didn't know anything beyond that. Yet a sly grin slowly spread across his lips.

"I have no idea what their relationship is. But that doesn't matter, right? Because what actually matters is…" he paused deliberately, allowing a wicked glint to surface in his eyes.

"…we get to bully that elite brat however we want. Haha."

The others immediately lit up with excitement, laughing with the same twisted delight.

"Haha. Right! Bullying and squeezing money out of an elite kid is way better than those rural bumpkins."

"It would be amazing if I could make him my personal servant. Haha."

More inhumane remarks followed one after another. One even went as far as saying:

"People say elite kids—boy or girl—have smooth skin. I bet I'll have a good time using one. Haha."

The laughter that erupted sounded disturbingly cheerful, as if the person they were talking about wasn't a fellow human being but merely a tool to satisfy every single one of their desires.

Rayan listened with an initially calm expression. But the longer he listened, the more that expression twisted into a simmering scowl.

He knew exactly who they were talking about—Al.

And although he understood perfectly well that if Al truly transferred here, they were the ones who would be destroyed without question, it did little to ease his fury.

Hearing such disgraceful words directed at his master naturally ignited the wrath of a loyal subordinate.

How dare they speak of Master in such a filthy manner! he seethed inwardly.

A dark surge of energy leaked from his body before he even realized it. His emotions gnawed at him from within. The atmosphere around him instantly turned oppressive.

The air seemed to move wildly, and the pressure in the surroundings dropped just enough to make every person in the area shiver and fall silent at once.

None of them knew why sudden fear gripped their hearts. Everyone present in the area felt the same sensation—as if an overwhelming danger loomed over them.

One boy thought some kind of supernatural phenomenon was occurring.

Another whispered to himself that perhaps they had just triggered a curse or a taboo because they discussed forbidden topics.

But no one truly understood the cause.

Rayan's expression had already darkened completely. He wasn't even aware that his advanced stealth mode had slipped down to the standard level.

"You bastards deserve to die, you insolent brats…" he muttered, his voice slipping out slightly.

But none of them heard him; they were too busy wrestling with the sudden dread clouding their minds.

Rayan's fist tightened, preparing to attack purely out of impulse.

Fortunately—before he allowed that impulse to consume him entirely—

A piece of bad news came through from one of the other members.

"Oh shit! I think I was a little careless. I'm surrounded," the voice reported.

That was enough to snap Rayan back to full awareness, his eyes widening as he realized he was dangerously close to losing control.

He pushed the matter aside immediately and turned sharply, focusing in the direction of the coordinates of the teammate who was now in danger.

"What happened?!" Rayan demanded, his question overlapping with the other members who asked the very same thing at almost the exact same moment.

---

On the other side, beneath a once-lush tree whose leaves had long dried up into brittle fragments—

Pita stood in a guarded stance.

Several silhouettes stood before her, their presence tense, their posture clearly indicating they were prepared for combat.

"I didn't expect you guys to be able to detect me," Pita murmured nervously toward the group of figures.

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