A few moments ago, when Aether was just getting into the game, meanwhile, in the garden of flowers—
Master Snape stood motionless, his gaze fixed blankly on the vibrant flowers before him, yet his expression remained unreadable.
His fists clenched tightly,
Everything went wrong… so damn wrong!
His lifelong, meticulously crafted plan had crumbled in a single day—shattered beyond it could repair!
His lifelong hard plan just crumbled in in a single day.
He wasn’t even sure what was happening anymore.
The way his carefully placed pieces were falling apart, one after another, was something he had never foreseen.
Even though he had adjusted his plan several times, no matter how much he tried to fix things, he couldn’t suppress the burning rage and the deep sense of loss that gnawed at his insides.
‘Just what the hell happened?’ he thought furiously. ‘How could everything fall apart so easily… where did I go wrong?’ Frustration clawed at his mind, leaving him restless.
For now, all he could do was wait.
Yes, patience. His plan required patience. The pieces were already in motion, manoeuvring exactly as he had planned. There was nothing left to do but wait and hope for the best possible outcome.
And then—
A swirling black vortex suddenly ripped open in midair, distorting the space around it. Master Snape turned sharply, as a small, hooded figure emerged from the darkness, carrying a broken, battered Alaric.
Alaric’s body was a mess—bruises, deep gashes, dried blood staining his tattered clothes. His injuries were so severe that even Master Snape, couldn’t help but be momentarily taken aback.
‘She really went overboard this time…’ Master Snape mused darkly, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at Alaric’s battered form.
Yet beneath the cold calculation in his eyes, there was something else—something resembling pity. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his arms wrapping around Alaric in a rare display of warmth.
Alaric’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering in their depths before his lips quivered. “I-I… I’m fine… big brother,” he murmured weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Master Snape pulled back, scanning him carefully before his gaze darkened. His jaw clenched, and fury burned in his eyes as he turned toward Alaric with barely contained rage.
“Did she really do this to you?” he demanded, his voice a dangerous growl. “How could she be so ruthless… to her own friend?”
Alaric forced a strained smile, a weak chuckle escaping his lips, “Well… I suppose… I should’ve expected it,” he muttered before wincing at the pain surging through his body.
Master Snape clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tsk… This is all because of me. If it weren’t for my plan, you wouldn’t have been wounded like this. I am sor—”
“Master, please,” Alaric cut in, his tone serious despite his exhaustion. “If you keep talking like that… I swear, I’ll actually die from hearing it.”
Snape paused, momentarily stunned, before exhaling sharply.
Without another word, he pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering, golden liquid.
“Here. Drink this,” he said as he handed it over.
Alaric’s eyes widened in recognition. This wasn’t just any ordinary healing potion—it was a high-level elixir, personally crafted by Master Snape himself, a former Sovereign. Potent beyond measure. Alaric hesitated for a moment, feeling an odd sense of pride that his master had gone to such lengths for him, before finally taking a cautious sip.
Meanwhile, Snape turned his attention to the tiny hooded figure. His voice was sharp and direct. “Did everything go as planned?”
The hooded figure flinched slightly before nodding quickly. “Y-Yes, Master… Everything went well. I used the monsters as a diversion, and we managed to take Alaric without anyone noticing us.”
Snape exhaled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He was slightly disappointed that his creatures had been sacrificed in the process, but when weighed against Alaric’s survival, the loss was insignificant.
“Was this truly the right decision, Master?” Alaric asked, his voice carrying the weight of doubt. Even though his body was healing, his mind remained clouded by unease.
“Hmm?”
“I mean…” Alaric hesitated, his expression grim. “Centuries of planning… years of dedication… and my role as her support… It’s all gone now. All of it—thrown away just because I ran. If I had stayed, maybe—”
“You would have died.”
Snape’s words cut through his words, silencing Alaric instantly. The Master’s gaze was unwavering, cold yet resolute.
“You still don’t understand, do you?” Snape continued. “You don’t know the real her, Alaric. The moment she perceives something as a threat, she eliminates it. No hesitation, no remorse.”
“B-But I’ve been by her side for hundreds of years—”
“That doesn’t matter,” Snape interjected sharply. His voice held a finality that sent a chill down Alaric’s spine. “Alaric… I know you love her. I know how much she means to you. But believe me when I say this—I know her better than anyone. And I know exactly what she’s capable of.”
He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “The moment doubt crept into her mind… it was over. No matter how much you’ve done for her, no matter how many years you’ve been by her side—none of it matters anymore.”
Alaric swallowed hard, his throat tightening as Snape’s words sank deep into his chest. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.
From the moment he escaped… he knew.
He could never… ever… truly have her!!
Snape observed him silently, recognizing the turmoil within him but choosing not to comment. Alaric still had his uses, especially while he remained ignorant of the true extent of Isadora’s nature.
“Anyway, for now—”But before he could finish, the tiny hooded figure, who had been scanning a slate-like device, suddenly stiffened. Panic flickered across their hidden face as they hurriedly turned toward Snape,
“The Sovereign has removed our energy signatures to enter the Academy, Master!!”
Alaric’s face turned deathly pale, his breath hitching in his throat,
‘Yeah… My pure love fucked up!’
It felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing his fate with a brutal, undeniable truth.
The Master merely nodded, as if he already predicted this, his expression unreadable as he shrugged with a casual air,
“Of course, she would do that… After all, she’s not a Sovereign just for the title,” he said, his voice laced with knowing amusement.
Then, fixing his sharp gaze on Alaric, he asked, “Tell me… how did she find out?
How did she corner you? We made sure that nothing could ever lead back to you. So why? My plan, something I meticulously built over hundreds of years… It shouldn’t be possible unless…” His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous. “Unless someone unconsciously slipped—”
Alaric immediately raised his hand, shaking his head frantically, “Master! I swear on my life, I never let my guard down. Not once! I never spoke a single word or let anything slip, not even by accident!”
The Master’s frown deepened, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew Alaric—he was meticulous, and disciplined to the point of paranoia. If anyone was cautious to an extreme, it was him. Yet still…
“Or… someone else—”
Before he could finish, the tiny hooded figure suddenly called out, their voice quivering with urgency. “M-Master!”
“Hmm?”
The figure hesitated for a fraction of a second, then delivered the words that sent a cold chill down his spine.
“She… removed your signature too.”
For a brief moment, the Master’s mind went blank.
She removed his signature?
Why?
She would never do that.
He knew how much Dora cherished him—far more than she did anyone else. Even after she ascended as a Sovereign, she had deliberately left his energy signature untouched within the Academy’s barriers—a lingering reminder of his existence, a hidden proof that she had never truly erased him from her heart.
He had even exploited that loophole to enter the Academy unnoticed.
But now…
“Why?” The Master muttered blankly, his thoughts spiralling into chaos. His fingers twitched, his entire being frozen in a moment of pure disbelief. It felt as if his grand plan—the very foundation he had painstakingly constructed over centuries—was already beginning to crumble from just a single action.
“M-Maybe she just removed everything for safet—”
“NO!” The Master’s voice thundered through the space, “She wouldn’t do that without a reason!” His teeth ground together, fury boiling beneath the surface as he turned sharply toward Alaric.
Alaric flinched. His body stiffened, his throat tightening involuntarily. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple.
That reaction alone was enough!
The Master’s sharp gaze darkened, and in a blink, his hand shot forward, his fingers locking around Alaric’s throat with unrelenting force.
“How dare you betray me?!” he roared, voice laced with uncontained rage.
“M-Masterrr…! Cough… I-I didn’t… ngh… I didn’t utter a single word! P-Please, believe me!” Alaric choked out, his hands clawing at the Master’s wrist as his body writhed in desperation. His legs trembled beneath him as he struggled against the suffocating grip.
The Master’s pupil-less eyes gleamed with something unreadable, “Huh? Then tell me… how did she know I was alive?”
“I-I don’t know!” Alaric gasped, his vision growing hazy. “S-She just… just suddenly asked about you! As if she knew something—cough—out of nowhere!”
The Master’s grip loosened slightly, his brows furrowing deeper.
“Out of nowhere?” he echoed, voice barely above a whisper.
That didn’t make sense.
Dora never spoke about him.
Never!
Even when Alaric had subtly tried to bring up his name in conversation, she would always brush it off, feigning disinterest. It was as if she had made a conscious effort to erase him from her thoughts.
And yet now, all of a sudden, she was asking about him?
No!
Something was definitely wrong!!
The Master ground his teeth before shoving Alaric away, watching as the man collapsed to the ground, coughing violently as he clutched his bruised throat. The Master exhaled sharply, his voice colder than ice.
“Someone must be involved with her…”
Alaric coughed, his fingers trembling as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. His throat ached, “Y-Yeah… I thought that too. I believe someone from our group might have leaked information. Maybe… Victor?”
But the Master immediately shook his head, scoffing. “No. Only the Table Members knew about me. Not even Jack knew… There’s no way Victor could’ve known.”
“But what if he leaked something else—like information about our organization—and she managed to connect the dots?” Alaric pressed, still desperate for an explanation, still searching for an answer that didn’t place the blame on them.
Before he could go further, the Master shot him a sharp look,
“Why are you so fixated on that brat? What? Did he steal your lover or something?”
Alaric’s face immediately turned red with embarrassment. “W-What?! Of course not!”
The Master merely shook his head, chuckling dryly. “Tsk. That’s exactly why this plan was only for the Table Members. No one else. Not even Jack. If only a handful of people knew, then the leak had to come from within.”
His voice turned grim.
“Still… who could it be?” The Master’s frown deepened… He didn’t want to doubt his most trusted members—men and women who had stood beside him for hundreds of years. But if someone within their inner circle had betrayed them…
The entire plan would collapse.
“Arrghh!” The Master growled furiously..
Just then—
A sudden voice.
“M-Master!”
A huge figure emerged from the shadows, stepping forward with heavy, deliberate movements.
The Master’s eyes flickered toward them,
“You finally came,” he said, his tone sharp with expectation. “Did you capture the escape—”
But his words halted abruptly… when he saw…
A head?
Drip…
Drip….