“...We’re done for—”

The moment that terrifying magical torrent was casually kneaded into a sugar pellet by that hand and then devoured by the being within the Holy Scripture, only those two words echoed in Veil’s mind.

She might’ve... made another wrong decision?

What do I do, what do I do?

I have to fix this somehow, otherwise...

“You’ve already done more than enough, Veil.”

A familiar, cool voice rang out from behind her.

Veil flinched, her neck shrinking slightly as she turned around, looking like a child who’d just made a mistake, eyes faintly red.

“President... I think I messed it up again.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

With a faint trace of blood staining her uniform and her hair a bit disheveled, Celicia gently patted Veil’s head and said softly,

“When faced with an enemy beyond understanding, it would’ve turned out like this no matter who was here. If anything, the fact that not a single student has died in this chaos so far is already...”

Celicia glanced at Ariel, who was tightly wrapped up like a dumpling, and paused. “...already impressive enough. From here on, this isn’t something we should interfere in.”

Celicia lifted her head and scanned her surroundings, immediately grasping the current situation. But when she saw that naked man sprinting wildly through the wind—the young prodigy of House Campbell, her own fiancé, that certain someone named Muen—someone as composed as she was couldn’t help but let the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.

Still, she quickly collected herself and issued orders to the students around her.

“The entrance to the underground shelters has been opened. Everyone, evacuate immediately and take cover below ground!”

She hadn’t used any voice amplification magic, yet her cool and indisputable voice reached the ears of every student present.

It quickly brought those who had been terrified by the scene back to their senses.

With help from the elite members of the Student Council, the students began organizing a swift and orderly retreat.

But—

“Too slow.”

A sigh drifted through the air.

An old man, leaning on a cane yet still brimming with vitality, appeared beside Celicia.

Professor Prang looked toward the Holy Scripture floating in the air.

That hand had already withdrawn, but that didn’t mean the enemy was retreating. On the contrary, it meant the enemy’s next step was a full descent.

“Which one of us is going?”

Another voice rang out.

Professor Garan had appeared there at some point as well.

And behind him, beyond the rippling spatial distortions, it seemed over a dozen ancient gazes ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ were casting their sights this way.

“I’ll go.” Professor Prang let out a sigh.

“You?” Garan raised an eyebrow and whistled.

“You’re in your eighties—don’t throw your back out halfway through.”

“What, you think I’ll send you instead?” Prang shot Garan a cold glance and snapped irritably, “You, who haven’t fought in over a decade? Or those guys back there who’ve got one foot in the grave already??”

“Well, true. Of all us old bastards, it is you—the cranky old magic professor—who’s the best at fighting.” Garan shrugged. “Then I’ll handle getting the students out. You go do your thing.”

“Don’t talk like I’m heading off to die.”

At the edge of the space ripple, Professor Prang reached out and grabbed—

A dainty, pink, star-shaped magic wand radiating waves of majestic power.

Even gripping that cute pink star wand, Professor Prang couldn’t stop his eyelid from twitching. He let out a sigh.

“No matter how many times I use you... the feeling is always weird.”

...

...

“Uwaaaaahhh—!!”

The mournful wail echoed again.

From within the pitch-black pages of the Holy Scripture, faint footsteps grew ever closer.

Then—silken fabric swayed, and a pale, delicate foot stepped out from the darkness.

In that instant—

The sacred hymn began.

It was as if trumpets cast of pure gold were sounding from behind the curtain of the heavens.

Ethereal, divine music blended with the wailing cries, reverberating across this desolate world.

Anyone who heard the crying would be overwhelmed by gut-wrenching sorrow. Yet if they paused and listened to the sacred hymn, they would feel a blissful, transcendent joy, as if offering everything they had to a great and holy being.

Countless pure white feathers appeared from nowhere, scattered by the wind.

Like flower petals cast by child attendants at a wedding.

The breathtaking figure clad in an elaborate white dress finally stepped fully from the Holy Scripture and descended into this world.

Her expression was sorrowful, as though mourning the suffering of all humanity.

Behind her, pure white wings unfurled. The radiant light they released far outshone even the gathering of floodlights pointed here.

Atop her head, a crown inscribed with stars and sun and moon revolved, emitting an overwhelming, suffocating pressure.

A Crowned-tier. A Coronated One!

The Purity Saint!

...

...

“...What the hell, that brain-dead Love God actually has a Crowned-tier believer?”

Inside the Silver Well, Pink Bear stared at the scene from afar, especially that imposing crown above the saintly woman’s head. For once, he was so stunned his plush mouth couldn’t even close.

Only those who break through the human limit and ascend beyond the Fifth Tier, acknowledged by the laws of this world, are granted both a [Title] and a [Crown], becoming Crowned-tier beings, revered by the masses as [Coronated Ones].

Compared to ordinary people, Coronated Ones represented a fundamental shift in the nature of life itself. Some scholars even referred to them as near-gods.

They couldn’t wield absolute divine authority like true gods, but every Coronated One stood at the apex of human power.

And now—one such Coronated had descended upon the Academy, as a believer of that corrupt Love God.

That, Pink Bear hadn’t expected at all.

But that wasn’t even the biggest issue. The Academy had Coronated-tier individuals. With the presence of the Grand Rites, a single Coronated wouldn’t be enough to shake its foundations... unless seven or eight of them came all at once.

The real question was—

Using a Coronated-tier as vessel and conduit... just how much power could that Love God channel into this world?

“Wait a second... why does that Coronated look kinda familiar?”

Staring at that nearly perfect face, Pink Bear stroked his chin in thought.

He was sure he’d seen her somewhere before.

But that couldn’t be right. Any beauty he’d laid eyes on—there was no way he could forget.

“...Don’t tell me—”

Pink Bear seemed to realize something. He suddenly pulled out his prized Saintly Women Photo Collection and flipped through it rapidly.

At one page, his paw froze.

His expression grew solemn.

“So that’s it...”

“This Coronated... she’s the former former Saint of the Church of Life?”

“But didn’t that Saint retire twenty years ago? There were rumors she married her lover and disappeared to live happily ever after.”

“...Her lover...”

Pink Bear slowly looked up again at the sorrowful expression of the saintly woman.

Without realizing it, a trace of pity crossed his own face.

“So much for being near-godly... in the end, still just a mortal corrupted by twisted love.”