After sharing that intimate moment with Amaera or rather Loriel, the fallen archangel who was hiding under the features of the vice-principal.

Amaera walked ahead, her silhouette draped in her azure dress which, despite the surrounding dust, seemed to repel the filth of this world. Her long cyan hair undulated down her back, and Klein could not help but observe the curve of her hips and the fluidity of her gait.

"Don’t dawdle, Klein," she called out without turning around. "This sector is known for its impromptu appearances of epic-rank monsters."

"Always so charming, Vice Principal," replied Klein with his eternal smirk, his hands nonchalantly thrust into the pockets of his coat.

Their progress was briefly interrupted by a pack of Hell Wolves, creatures with ebony fur and eyes injected with sulfur that surged from a ravine. For Klein, it was nothing more than a routine exercise. Without even drawing his twin swords, he used a quick Dash to find himself at the center of the pack. In one movement, he concentrated his aura in his palm.

<Aura Repulsion.>

The invisible shockwave hurled the beasts against the rocky walls with a crunch of broken bones. A press of his hand on the skull of the last wolf was enough to crush it to the ground. He straightened up, smoothing his silver hair back.

They resumed their walk for a few hours, venturing deeper into an area where the vegetation of Tenebris, trees with twisted trunks and black leaves, grew denser. Suddenly, Amaera stopped. Her arm extended in front of Klein’s chest, stopping him with surprising force.

"Careful!" she murmured, her ice mana already beginning to frost the ambient air.

Klein froze. A few millimeters from his throat, the air seemed to vibrate. If he had taken one more step, his head would have been separated from his body. "What’s happening?" he asked.

"I don’t know... I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s as if space itself is segmented," replied Amaera, her eyes desperately scanning the void in front of them.

Klein did not waste a second. He concentrated his physical energy toward his brain, stimulating his optic nerves beyond human limits.

<Predator Eye>

The world changed color. The dull gray of Tenebris was replaced by an intertwining of energy flows. And there, he saw them. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of mana threads, thinner than a human hair. They were woven between the trees, on the ground, and even suspended in the air, forming a three-dimensional spider web of terrifying complexity.

"Threads?" he breathed, his pupils dilated by the perception technique.

"Is it a spider-type monster?" asked Amaera, preparing a protection incantation.

Klein shook his head, a drop of cold sweat running down his temple. He recognized the signature of this mana. It was precise... And methodical. "Run!" he ordered abruptly.

"Huh?"

"We are being hunted by the leader of the Spiders!"

"Who?" Amaera did not have time to finish her sentence. Klein grabbed her by the waist, his arm firmly encircling her slender figure. Before she could protest against this sudden proximity, he bent his legs.

<Aura Repulsion.>

The aura explosion under his boots propelled them into the air, tearing through the invisible web that was closing in on them. A shrill whistle tore through the air behind their heels.

"You think you can escape me?" launched a neutral voice.

Mid-flight, Klein had to pivot abruptly. A mana thread, faster than an arrow, shot toward his face. He dodged it by a hair, but the edge cut a small piece of skin on his cheek.

’Shit! Why is she after us?’ thought Klein, landing heavily on a high branch, Amaera still against him.

In a whirlwind of silver threads that seemed to emerge from the shadows cast by the trees, she appeared.

It was a dark elf with a slender and graceful stature. She wore a fitted dark leather corset that highlighted a narrow waist, contrasting with the firm roundness of her chest and the generous curve of her hips, molded in an equally tight leather pants. Her short hair was partially hidden by a thick fringe that fell over her face.

When she raised her head, Klein felt his heart skip a beat. One of her eyes was a brilliant gold, while the other was an absolute black, a bottomless abyss. Her gaze was filled with natural arrogance.

Klein felt uneasy. He knew her past that Diavolo had revealed to him: she was Subject 23570, created from his own blood. She was, in a way, the daughter of his master and obviously her power was not to be underestimated at all.

"Are you with the Spectrum?" asked Amaera. She had freed herself from Klein’s embrace and faced the intruder, her Arcane mana awakening instinctively in the face of the threat.

"What do you want!" added Klein, feigning ignorance.

Eleanor tilted her head slightly to the side.

"No need to panic," she said in a monotone voice. "I am not looking for conflict with the Academy. I only want her heart... The heart of a being whose essence has remained pure despite the fall. The heart of a fallen angel..."

Amaera blanched. How could this dark elf know her true nature? Her fingers clenched, and shards of frost began to swirl around her.

Klein sighed and drew his weapon.

’I never thought it would be like this, my encounter with my beloved witch after all this time,’ he thought bitterly.

But he could only try to fight her and escape...

With a fluid gesture of her hands gloved in black lace, she spread her fingers. Immediately, the entire area was saturated. The mechanisms hidden in her rings released floods of Mana Threads that stretched between the tree trunks with the sound of harp strings.

"Stay behind me, Amaera," ordered Klein, his gray aura beginning to radiate from his body, resonating with his eclipse tattoo.

Eleanor moved with supernatural agility, jumping from branch to branch, her feet never seeming to touch the ground as she manipulated her threads to create deadly traps. Klein had to use Eye of Predator continuously to avoid being skinned alive.

Eleanor did not strike directly; she restricted the space. The threads tightened around them, cutting branches, slicing rocks as if they were butter.

"Spell: Mana Thread - Cage of Silence!" cried Eleanor.

The threads converged toward Amaera. The latter reacted by releasing a wave of absolute cold.

"Elemental Magic: Ice"

<Cryogenic Circular!>

The thermal shock weakened the mana threads, making them brittle like glass. Klein took advantage of it. He leaped forward, his blade tracing a perfect arc.

"Art: Sundering Eclipse"

<First Movement: Crescent Moon!>

A dark aura blade burst from his sword, severing the frozen threads and rushing straight toward Eleanor. The dark sorceress did not move. She used a thread to propel herself upward, avoiding Klein’s attack by a hair, and reappeared right above him.

"You are fast...," she commented.

Klein then understood the extent of the danger. Eleanor was not acting for Black Neon or for money; she was pursuing her own dream of divinity, inherited from Diavolo’s obsession with transcendence.

"I won’t let you touch her," declared Klein, firmly positioning himself between the two women.

’Shit, what should I do... If she decides to fight seriously?’