Many questions slurred into Kai’s mind about the situation.

Ever since his life as a Lesser Angel started, things had never been easy or gone as planned. It was natural for him to be suspicious when things were going surprisingly smoothly. And he was questioning the moment throughout the whole way.

Just then, he remembered something.

"What about the wishes I got from those three titles?" Kai couldn’t help but ask.

He used all three wishes to demand an increase in class.

Demand to become an Angel.

But now that the status was taken away, he expected the three wishes to be refunded.

"I don’t really know about that since you’re a special case," Ragnar shrugged. "I think you’ll have to ask the Chancellor about it. Or if you want to try, you can go to the AAA. Though I doubt they have an answer."

Even though he answered with solutions, the hidden message was clear.

Kai could try demanding those wishes back, but he won’t get them back.

Not when he’s merely a Lesser Angel.

Eventually, they arrived inside a room equipped with a receptionist desk and a sofa area for people to wait. Kai took off his mask when he saw Ragnar take his, and then sat down on the soft sofa.

It was comfortable here.

Something in this room is making Kai relaxed, and it’s not the fresher air.

"Wait a moment," Ragnar said and walked on ahead through a narrow corridor.

Kai could hear the sound of a door opening and closing.

Assuming Ragnar intended to retrieve the three Crystallized Teardrops of Argus himself, Kai settled in to wait. He leaned back against the sofa and gazed through the glass wall, watching the occasional student pass by.

A few glanced his way, their curiosity poorly masked.

Soon, about two minutes later, Kai straightened his posture when someone entered the room.

He surveyed the room briefly, then pulled off his mask. Beneath it, his eyes burned steel-grey and luminous, twin edges that cut like a drawn blade. With confident steps, he strode to the receptionist’s desk and talked with the receptionist.

Kai could hear what they were talking about since the waiting area is only a few steps away.

"I’m here for the Crystallize Teardrop of Argus. I heard it has arrived."

"Yes, it has. Please sit down and wait a moment."

He has also claimed a title.

Kai probed the student’s back and could feel the intense heat coming from him.

It was the aura of a High Angel.

A strong one at that, too, as he seemed to have a sharper edge in his aura than Matilda.

Not necessarily stronger, but more dangerous in a way.

After thanking the receptionist with a curt nod, he turned. His gaze found Kai’s and held for a single, weighted second. Without a word, he crossed the space and lowered himself into the single sofa to Kai’s right.

He made no effort to conceal his probing stare.

It was open, as though he were peeling back layers from the student before him.

"You look familiar," the student said.

"I’m the Lesser Angel," Kai answered bluntly. "Everyone knows me, apparently."

"Ah, right... Lesser Angel Kai. I’ve heard about you," the student leaned back and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, settling into a seamless figure-four. "Since there is only one of your kind, it’s not a surprise that everyone knows you. Do you know me?"

"Should I?" Kai inspected the man again and realized that he was familiar. "Chester?"

"Seems like everyone knows me, too," Chester chuckled humorously.

Bree was quite detailed in everything she said.

One topic she talked about was the leader of the Ichor Legion—a High Angel named Chester, his black hair tinged with blue at the edges and his steel-grey eyes cutting like a blade. He is a Supernal of Perseus, Bree said. And from what she’d heard, he was terrifyingly strong.

Not through overwhelming mana, but sheer combat prowess.

According to students who had fought in the same Blood Rite, Chester had walked into their midst alone and challenged every group leader to single combat. None of the leaders could refuse, as doing so would have branded them as cowards before their peers.

One by one, he beat them all.

All team structures on the Blood Rite are made in haste.

The leaders hadn’t gotten the full trust of their team members yet.

And that’s the loophole Chester used to force them into a duel and beat them squarely.

His method crushed the morale spirit of the other teams, and it’s smooth sailing from there.

"Are you also here for the Crystallize Teardrop of Argus?"

"Yeah."

"If you don’t mind me asking, which titles have you claimed?" Chester’s eyes narrowed with interest. He was curious as to how a Lesser Angel could even claim one title. "I claimed two of the three titles, missing only the Monster Hunter title. I got unlucky."

"I got all three," Kai averted his gaze. "I got lucky."

Naturally, Chester doubted his claim.

Of the three titles, only one could be chalked up to luck—the Monster Hunter title. Precisely the kind of Lesser Angel like Kai would need to scrape by. As for the other two titles, Chester reasoned, should have been impossible for him. Hence the doubt.

Before he could say anything, Ragnar came back.

"Come on," He nudged his head toward the corridor. "Let’s get your things."

Kai stood up and followed Ragnar.

He could tell Chester was a troublesome person, and he didn’t want to be close to such a person.

At the end of the corridor, there was a door.

Kai followed inside, expecting some kind of high-security storage to store valuable items, but what he found inside wasn’t a storage room. It was a small, cubicle space with two long sofas and a table at the center.

Sitting on one side is a woman.

She sat in quiet austerity, draped in layers of white and muted grey that lent her the air of a solitary priestess. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed her face, and with her head bowed toward her lap, her features remained entirely hidden from view.

Only a lace white mask that concealed her expression can be seen.

Fine silver chains rested against her chest, making her look regal.

"Sit down," Ragnar instructed. "We’re going to check your bloodline first."

As he sat down on the opposite side, the woman raised her gaze, showing her unsettling eyes.

Her gaze was distant, never quite present, as if she could see something beyond the world.

Dark circles lingered beneath them, similar to Kai’s. And when her focus fixated on Kai, her pupils widened, devouring her irises until almost nothing remained but a hollow—watching grey void.

"F-For what purpose?" Kai sweated a little, shifting on his seat as the woman’s stare made him feel really uncomfortable. Like he was being stripped naked. "Aren’t we here to take the Crystallize Teardrop of Argus?"

"Yes," Ragnar nodded. "But after this."

"Relax, Lesser Angel Kai," the woman said with a breathy voice. Her eyes squinted a little, showing that she was smiling behind the mask. "It won’t take long. It will be done before you even realize it."

That’s not what I’m worried about.

Kai swallowed harshly.

He thought he would need to worry about this far later, but it doesn’t seem to be the case.

"As you might already know, the Lower Olympus recorded the bloodline of every Supernal to keep track of mankind’s divine quotas." The woman leaned forward and stretched her open hand towards him. "Yours hadn’t been recorded. That’s why I’m here."

Of course, Kai could only snort inwardly at what she said.

The only reason his bloodline had never been recorded was simple: the academy had expected him to die. A Lesser Angel wasn’t worth the time or paperwork—until he survived. Only now, after all this time, did someone finally come to assess what ran through his veins.

Kai looked down at the woman’s hand.

She was wearing a fitting grey glove, and it exuded mana.

Hesitantly, he laid his hand over hers.

Showing how hesitant he was in doing this would only make him look suspicious.

He has no other choice.

In an instant, she caught his hand between both of her own, holding on—as though he might slip away. She inhaled deeply through her nose—channeling mana into Kai’s hand. The sting made him flinch.

"Relax," the woman whispered soothingly. "And look into my eyes."

Kai tensed up, still reluctant to stare into the woman’s eyes.

But then his body relaxed.

Since there wasn’t any record of the Goddess of the Primordial Night, the woman would probably be confused by the bloodline in him. And besides, the Goddess doesn’t want to be known, even by him.

If anything, she wouldn’t let anyone sense her.

Especially not a stranger with no connection to her like this woman.

Kai stared into the woman’s eyes.

’He’s finally letting go,’ the woman thought inside, feeling that Kai had finally allowed her to peer through. She didn’t need to force her way through. ’I’ve read his reports, and I couldn’t believe what I’m seeing.’

On the reports, she learned that Kai, a Lesser Angel, dominated the Blood Rite.

He won fair and square against multiple High Angels.

Even a Lesser Angel with the bloodline of an Olympian God should’ve found this impossible. Yet Kai had managed it. That single contradiction had sparked her curiosity—what Patron God could possibly reside within him?

Slowly, the woman focused on probing Kai’s bloodline.

Her peripheries dissolved, slowly being swallowed by darkness. She did not notice. Her focus had narrowed entirely to Kai—pouring mana into him, and watching his eyes. The black of his pupils spread slowly, flooding the white until his gaze became two pools of absolute void.

Unease gripped her heart.

She pushed it aside and peered in.

The darkness swayed. It moved like black waves, a slow and beautiful rhythm that drew her gaze deeper. She searched the currents—hunting for any trace of the Patron who owned this darkness, some sigil or familiar mark.

But there was only the silence and the tide.

She did not feel the way back thinning.

Deeper still, and still nothing. The darkness was vast. She found herself admiring its elegance, even as a cold thread of warning tightened in her chest. She tried to press forward—and then realization dawned on her like the first streak of night.

Looking down, she realized she wasn’t moving forward on her own volition.

It was the darkness that was pulling her.

Panic flared. She recoiled, tried to yank herself free—but the darkness had latched on with an invisible grip. The tether to her body had frayed to almost nothing. She looked back and saw the way back was gone.

She was adrift, sinking, the darkness closing over her like an inevitable tide.

A hand touched her shoulder.

The void vanished. Light, sound, and air rushed back.

She gasped and turned.

Ragnar stood behind her, his hand steady on her shoulder, and he was frowning.

"Are you okay?"