“Where do you think you’re going, Jack?” Lia asked in a soft yet teasing tone as she crouched down, tilting her head to look at him. Her gaze was calm, almost amused, as she watched him struggle.
Jack was coughing violently, his entire body shaking from the pain.
Jack spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground and glared up at her, his expression twisted in agony and fury. What was that look for?
Because… Lia’s gaze flickered upward, taking in the sight before her. His entire body was pierced with red swords, each one shimmering with a faint glow.
Oh, right. That was her doing.
The moment he tried to escape, she had riddled his body with swords, leaving him pinned like a broken doll.
“Y-You… You will pay for this…” Jack choked out, his voice weak but filled with rage. His body trembled, his breaths ragged, yet he still had the nerve to glare at her.
Lia let out a small chuckle, tilting her head with mild curiosity. “Oh? And how exactly am I going to do that?” Her voice was playful, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as one of her swords inched closer to his face, the sharp tip hovering just a breath away from his skin.
Jack’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, “W-Wait… I-I’ll tell you… Just… just listen!” His voice wavered, panic creeping in as the blade moved closer.
Lia’s lips curled slightly. “Oh? Now that’s more like it.” She leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. “Go on, then. I’m listening.”
Jack’s breathing was uneven as he forced out the words. “H-He… Master… I saw him… He was placing Victor on a stone…”
Lia’s expression remained unreadable, but her fingers twitched slightly, “A stone?”
Jack nodded quickly, his face pale, “Y-Yes! A stone… not far from here… Just a short distance away!” He weakly raised a trembling hand, pointing in the direction where Victor might be.
Lia hummed softly as if considering his words. “I see… And what about Aether?”
Jack’s eyes widened slightly. “A-Aether? I- I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about! We never kidnapped Aether!” His voice became more frantic, his desperation evident. “I’m telling the truth!”
Lia’s eyes narrowed. “So you haven’t seen him anywhere?” Her tone remained light, but without hesitation, she drove another sword into his body.
“Arrgg! Bitc—” Jack’s scream was cut off when he saw the glistening tip of a sword suddenly hovering just in front of his open mouth, ready to skewer him the moment he said something stupid. His entire body stiffened, sweat dripping down his face. “N-No… arhh… I swear! I didn’t see him! You have to believe me!”
Lia stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, in a calm voice, she said, “Thank you, then.”
And with that, she drove her sword straight into his head—
BOOOMM!
The ground beneath them trembled violently before splitting apart.
“Shit!!” Lia cursed, quickly leaping to the side as the earth beneath Jack crumbled. She watched as his limp body tumbled into the abyss, disappearing into the darkness below.
Lia turned sharply, her eyes scanning the scene—
Dora.
She was pounding the Master into the ground with brutal force, her fists slamming into him again and again. The sheer impact of her punches caused the earth to crack and split apart.
And then—before she even gave him a chance to react—Mary was there.
Without a shred of hesitation, Mary lunged, her sword flashing like a blur as she stabbed the Master’s body repeatedly. Dozens, hundreds of times. It was relentless. The blade tore through him again and again before she finally kicked him off with enough force to send him flying—
BOOOM!!
Chuck!!
BAM!
Chuckk!
BOOOM!
Dora and Mary showed no mercy. They struck him down like he was nothing more than a ragdoll, their combined attacks tearing through his cloak, ripping away his defenses. And yet, they didn’t slow down.
They didn’t stop.
They didn’t even give him a chance to breathe.
“Let’s finish this bastard off!” Dora shouted as she delivered a devastating kick, sending the Master flying into the air. She raised a hand, and with a flick of her fingers, a burst of razor-sharp air waves slashed through the air like claws—
The next second, the Master’s limbs were severed.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, bitch~” Mary murmured with a wicked smile. Her crimson eyes gleamed as she dissolved into a red mist, her form twisting and swirling like a living storm.
And then—
The storm consumed him.
SsssshhhhHhhhhhhHHhhhhh!!
Lia clutched a nearby rock, steadying herself as the ground trembled beneath her feet. She watched in silence as Dora stood there, her fists clenched tightly, waiting.
Waiting for it to end.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the crimson storm faded. Something fell from the sky—
Thud!
Mary materialized beside Dora, both of them staring down at what remained.
A body.
It was pierced from all sides, red swords stabbing deep into the ground, trapping it in place.
The limbs were also impaled, spread out like a grotesque piece of art.
Dora frowned, her gaze sharp. “Is he dead?” She narrowed her eyes, sensing no movement.
Mary, however, didn’t answer right away… Instead, she took a step closer, her eyes scanning the body carefully. Then, her expression darkened.
“It’s pale,” she muttered.
“Huh?” Dora glanced at her before looking back at the corpse.
Mary pointed toward the torn remains of the Master’s clothes. His skin—now fully exposed—was disturbingly pale.
And the most unsettling part?
Even after being stabbed repeatedly, there wasn’t a single drop of blood leaking from his body.
Suddenly—
“You two still make a good team, don’t you?…”
A voice rose from within the bloodied remains, smooth and calm.
Dora and Mary tensed—not out of fear, but because something about that voice sent an eerie chill down their spines.
It was familiar… Too familiar!
It wasn’t just the voice itself—it was the way it lingered, the way it resonated in their bones, as if they’d heard it before in their worst nightmares.
The mangled flesh that had been shredded and impaled mere moments ago began to twitch unnaturally.
Cchhhkkk!
ccchhhkkk!
The grotesque sound of shifting muscle and tearing flesh filled the air. The swords piercing the body sliced deeper as the movement forced them to rip through skin and muscle, the sharp edges grinding against bone.
Blood-stained fabric clung to the swords, the tattered remnants of his clothes caught in the blades like shredded paper. And yet—
The moment his flesh pulled away from the stab wounds, it joined instantly.
Not slowly. Not hesitantly.
Instantly!
Piece by piece, his body reconstructed itself, the wounds sealing up as if they had never existed. The grotesque display of healing continued until, finally—
A figure emerged, standing tall amidst the carnage.
Master Snape.
And he was completely naked.
Dora’s throat went dry. Mary stiffened beside her.
“Dora, Mary?”
His voice was soft, almost amused, as he gazed at them with an unsettling gentleness. His demeanour was casual, eerily unfazed as if he were greeting old friends rather than standing before the very people who had just tried to obliterate him.
Dora and Mary’s eyes widened, their bodies refusing to move.
A wave of dread crashed over them.
They had just ripped him apart, reduced him to nothing but scattered flesh and bone. They had torn through him like he was nothing, buried him under a storm of blades, fists, and destruction. And yet, here he stood.
Whole.
Unharmed!
Smiling!!
“A-Are you seeing this…?” Mary muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips parting in disbelief.
Her crimson eyes locked onto his pale, scar-ridden skin. Even after regenerating, his body was covered in countless faded cuts and slashes—like remnants of past injuries, scars that stubbornly refused to vanish despite his miraculous healing.
And then, she saw it.
A massive ‘X’ scar stretching across his face.
A permanent mark that someone gave it to him!
The Master ran his fingers over his skin, trailing over the deep, jagged lines with something akin to admiration, “These cut marks… these stretches…” he murmured, his tone almost nostalgic. “No matter how much I heal, they never fade away.”
His gaze slowly shifted toward Dora, and for the first time, they saw them—
His eyes.
Pupilless. Hollow. Empty.
A void that swallowed everything.
Dora took a step back, her breathing shallow. A sickening realization dawned upon her, one she couldn’t deny any longer.
“…M-Master… Snape…?”
The name slipped from her lips in sheer disbelief.
Those scars.
She knew those scars!!
Because she was the one who gave them to him.
Every single slash that marred his body.
Every single wound was carved into his flesh.
Every. Single. One!!
They were hers.
The confirmation sent ice through her veins. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a deafening drum of horror and confusion.
Master Snape’s lips curled into a soft, almost fond smile. He raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, a dark cloak materialized over his body, draping over him like a living shadow. This time, however, he did not bother to pull the hood over his head.
He wanted them to see him.
“You two have grown, haven’—”
Whistle~
A sudden, sharp whistle cut his words.
Snape blinked, as he looked at the source of the whistle, Mary, his expression shifting to mild confusion, “Are you… happy fo—” He barely had time to finish his sentence when—
“KYYYAAAA!!!”
A high-pitched, panicked scream shattered the moment.
Every head turned toward the source of the cry.
Lia.
She was struggling violently, her body completely wrapped in thick, sticky white silk—bound tightly, like a helpless cocoon.
And the culprit?
A massive black spider.
The same monstrous creature they had used to travel here.
It swiftly bound Lia in layers of webbing before hoisting her onto its back.
Tttttrrrrrrrrrrr!
Without hesitation, the spider bolted, skittering away at an alarming speed.
Dora blinked in stunned silence before pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing heavily. “So… this is the reason you brought that thing along?”
Mary simply shrugged, her expression casual, as if this were all going exactly as planned. “Well, bitch, you didn’t say Master Snape was really, really, REALLY alive, did you? So safely had plans just in case you messed up?!”
Dora’s lips twitched. A headache was forming.
Meanwhile, Snape let out a low chuckle, his unsettling amusement growing. “Don’t worry, Mary,” he said, his voice dripping with reassurance. “I have no intention of harming your daughter.” His eyes gleamed with something unreadable as they shifted toward Dora. “Anyway, you didn’t come all this way just for her, did you? You came to rescue your so-called disciple, right, Dora?”
Dora’s expression darkened.
Her fingers curled into fists.
She said nothing.
Snape tilted his head, watching her, savouring her silence. “But…” His voice lowered into something more sinister, teasing yet laced with something far more dangerous. “Aren’t you forgetting something much, much more important?”
“Huh?”
“You shouldn’t have come directly here” He chuckled wickedly!
Dora’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Snape’s grin widened, stretching across his face like a crescent moon, “Why, of course… your precious Academy~”
Meanwhile…
At the Academy gates.
“No one is allowed to enter!”
A group of heavily armoured guards stood firm, blocking the entrance from two hooded figures.
One was lean.
The other was massive.
The lean figure stepped forward before slowly pulling back their hood.
The guards’ eyes widened in recognition.
“V-Vice Principal Alaric?!”
Shock flickered across their faces as they stared at the man before them.
Alaric, ever composed, offered them a small, almost gentle smile. “I do hope everything is going well,” he murmured, his tone calm, pleasant even. “I’d hate to disappoint Master any further…”
“What—” Before the guard could even react, Alaric moved.
A flash of silver.
A sharp sting.
The cold metal of a syringe plunged into the guard’s neck.
A thick, crimson liquid was injected directly into his veins.
The second guard’s eyes widened in alarm, but before he could reach for his weapon—
CRACK!
A sickening crunch filled the air as the massive figure beside Alaric reached out and crushed the guard’s skull with a single, effortless grip.
Blood splattered onto the ground.
Alaric smoothly retracted the syringe, stepping back to observe his work with eerie satisfaction.
The first guard’s body convulsed violently. His veins bulged beneath his skin, darkening as they pulsed with unnatural energy. His mouth opened in a silent scream before—
“ARRRRRRHHH!!!”
A guttural, inhuman cry ripped from his throat.
Alaric’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of pleasure.
“Let the chaos begin.”