'The Book Witch cooperating with the Geddes family, the Misfortune Witch who suddenly appeared in Savant City, and now these two witches whose authorities I don't even know, popping up inside my dream…
Four witches—every single one of them Saint-rank.
What kind of divine luck does a tiny place like Savant City have, to attract this many witches at once?
With strength like theirs, wiping out the entire Savant Kingdom would be effortless. Even if the Church intervened, they wouldn't hesitate for a second.'
Hel pondered the major events that had recently taken place in Savant City. The only thing she could think of that might explain it all was John, the special envoy from the Holy See.
John was preparing to use Savant City as the core to cast a forbidden spell capable of covering the entire southern continent, completely resolving the plague crisis.
That was precisely why Hel had deliberately left the body of the Healing Witch to him—so he could use it to end the plague.
'So… are these witches here to stop John?
But that doesn't make sense. The Book Witch and the Misfortune Witch have nothing to do with the Supreme faction at all. One belongs to Time, the other to Fate.
Wait—Fate?
Could that old schemer from Fate have gotten involved? But she never meddles in continental affairs.
Unless… she has a reason she can't avoid this time. And that reason definitely isn't something as simple as helping Pestis spread the plague.
Which means—either there's something hidden behind the magic John plans to cast… or this entire thing is a trap.'
Hel shook her head. She truly didn't want to think about it anymore.
Even if something world-shaking really was about to happen, it had little to do with her.
If Fate and John ended up fighting each other, she'd probably just pull up a small stool and watch the show. There was no conflict of interest for her either way.
She hadn't come to the academy to save the world—only to find her missing authority.
Nothing more.
Once she found the whereabouts of the Recovery Witch, her academy life would come to an end.
'Right… speaking of which, I wonder if that old King of Chui-de has made it back yet.'
Judging by how cowardly that old man was, he was probably still drifting toward Savant on a ship.
At his pace, it would take quite a while.
Then there was York, who had arrived alongside John.
Niv had casually mentioned before that York and three Saint-rank experts were still fighting in the Windmill Kingdom—beating each other so badly it had turned into a complete bloodbath. Half the Windmill Kingdom had already been reduced to ruins by them.
Yet somehow, news of such a massive event hadn't leaked into Savant City at all.
That made Hel genuinely impressed with Imshi's intelligence work.
This was practically building an information cocoon around John.
She had even managed to make York disappear for over half a month without John noticing anything amiss—which was frankly absurd.
Hel's thoughts wandered chaotically.
She glanced at the sky outside—it was still dark—then patted her cheeks to wake herself up a bit more.
Sleeping was definitely out of the question.
Who knew whether those two tiger lolis were still lying in wait inside her dreams?
Her combat strength in reality wasn't bad, but inside a dream, everything came down to mental power.
She was only a sixth-rank weakling. There was no way she could compete with two legally adult idiot lolis who'd probably lived for who knows how many centuries.
So this wasn't cowardice—
It was strategic withdrawal.
Just you wait. Once I reach Saint rank, I'll hang those two idiots up and beat them senseless.
Hel thought viciously.
Just then, she heard a loud clang from next door—the sound of something heavy falling—followed by a rush of messy footsteps. Not long after, the door to the neighboring room opened.
'If I remember right, that room belongs to Leflina. What's going on—did she have a nightmare?'
As Hel thought that, the image of that arrogant black-haired loli surfaced in her mind again.
She instinctively clenched her small fist, silently recording this grudge in her mental notebook.
A moment later, another heavy thud sounded from outside the door.
Hel sighed helplessly.
After all, Leflina was the future first governor of the continent she had chosen. She couldn't just leave her alone.
Hel lifted her blanket.
A wave of biting cold rushed in, making her shiver involuntarily.
At the same time, the warmth lingering beneath the covers made her reluctant to get up so quickly.
'Even in Ymir, which is relatively far south, autumn nights are still this cold…'
She hugged her shoulders and rubbed her arms, then lifted her pale, delicate foot and fumbled around on the floor for a moment before finally sliding it into a fluffy slipper.
Then she reached for the other foot—
Only to find nothing.
After sensing with her mental power, she realized she'd put the slippers on the wrong feet.
The one she'd been searching for was right beside her left foot.
'Seriously…'
Hel shook her head helplessly.
Even after becoming a transcendent, many of her habits hadn't changed.
For example, she rarely used mental power in daily life. She didn't waste magic or battle aura to force her blood to circulate just to ward off the autumn chill.
And she certainly didn't go around scanning everyone she met with status inspections.
When she had first transmigrated, she might have done that for novelty's sake for a day or two. But after seeing too many status panels, she'd grown lazy.
Unless someone was particularly special, she wouldn't bother checking.
And once she'd checked someone once, she almost never did it again—there was little point.
After putting on her slippers, Hel casually picked up a hooded wool cloak from the chair and draped it over herself.
The cloak only reached her waist and was mostly decorative, but since she was wearing nothing but a thin nightdress, it provided a bit of much-needed warmth.
She opened her door and found that the magic lights in the living room were still on.
Hiness lay sprawled messily on the sofa, clothes askew, half a doughnut clenched in her hand. A glistening thread of drool hung from the corner of her mouth.
She even smacked her lips in her sleep, as if savoring the taste of the doughnut.
Nearby, Leflina was kneeling on the floor, clutching her nose with teary eyes—clearly having taken a nasty fall.
A spotless white blanket lay scattered beside her.
And a thumb-thick metal cylinder rolled along the floor from Leflina's feet, slowly coming toward Hel.
It was obvious—
That was what Leflina had tripped over.