Muen opened his eyes.

In the still-warm pool, strengthened by the special material, he inwardly examined his body and let out a long breath.

Both his injuries and the hollowness within him had just about healed.

The surging magic power and battle aura flowing inside him gave him, for the first time in a while, the full sense of strength.

After having nearly thrown his life away, squeezing out everything from within his body, and then receiving ample external replenishment, every inch of his muscles once again burst with vitality.

Without realizing it, both his physical toughness and his cultivation realm had subtly advanced.

Especially his magic power—through the constant consumption and replenishment of his alchemical core, the magic that once barely sustained a few [Illumination Spells] had at least doubled.

Unfortunately, the maximum capacity for magic was mostly determined by one’s innate talent. Training in this regard only slowly drew out what talent already existed. And given the Campbell family’s magical aptitude...

Muen decided that in future fights, he’d better prepare more things that could restore magic at any time.

“You have to reach Third-Tier Arcane Rituals before you can freely draw magic from the air. My road is still a long one.”

Muen sighed and continued organizing the harvest of this ordeal.

Actually, there wasn’t much of a harvest. After all, he wasn’t the heaven-ordained protagonist who, after each major event, gained enough experience to level up in leaps.

To be honest, this time he hadn’t gained anything—on the contrary, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ he had lost quite a few expensive items.

But it was worth it.

Because no matter how precious the item, none of it compared to a single strand of senior-sister’s hair, right?

...

“At least it wasn’t a complete loss...”

Muen’s consciousness sank deeper.

In that pitch-black space, the Black Book floated quietly.

Muen could clearly sense its weakness.

It seemed that the direct clash against the projection of Silent Moon had consumed it greatly.

But then Muen noticed that the faint glow surrounding the book’s body seemed to have grown thicker.

The feeling it gave was like someone had just been kneed in the stomach until stars burst before their eyes, only to be treated to a grand meal right after.

Pain mixed with satisfaction, contradiction to the extreme.

Muen did not communicate with it, did not disturb its bittersweet state. Instead, with a flick of his awareness, the pages turned, displaying the previous records.

In that record, the banshee’s name had turned red. Which meant...

New character up!

Muen stretched out his hand and lightly touched that red record. In an instant, the surrounding environment suddenly changed.

Rain poured down in torrents.

The cold rain fell upon Muen’s body, bringing a bone-chilling cold. The shadows of the district loomed fierce, as though ghosts hid within.

“It can even completely simulate the scene from that time?”

Under the downpour, Muen felt as if time itself had reversed.

And that familiar, yet loathsome, enchanting figure stood silently, crescent scimitar in hand.

Her eyes were devoid of emotion.

“In any case, let’s give it a little test.”

At some point Muen too was holding a pure-white short blade, excitement flickering on his face.

Round two with the banshee—begin!

...

“So in the end, I still lost?”

Muen opened his eyes and let out a regretful sigh.

With fear and caution stripped away, the banshee, existing only as a record, still wielded the terrifying body blessed by the Evil God, along with the overwhelming realm of peak Tier 3. The pressure it gave him was several notches higher.

And within the record, he naturally could not use the [Eternal Clock].

He lost cleanly.

But honestly, there wasn’t much to regret.

If an opponent was weaker than himself, then what meaning was there in recreating them?

“It’s just that my moves are too simple. I really need to find a way to deal with that.”

Otherwise, for himself—a duke’s son, the princess’s fiancé, Mentor Meladomir’s last disciple, and the record-holder for clearing Saint Maria Academy’s [Foundations of Magic Theory] course in a single month—if all he ever did in battle was throw around the same three clumsy tricks, it felt far too disgraceful.

And if he ever met a true powerhouse, this would be his glaring weakness.

“Fortunately, now that this incident is resolved, I still have enough time left.”

...

Muen stood up and stretched lazily out of habit.

Even though he had just fought a battle in the space of consciousness, he still felt utterly refreshed in both mind and body, as though he had undergone a baptism of holy light.

“This is...”

It was then that Muen seemed to notice something. He scooped up a handful of bathwater and lifted it to his nose to sniff.

Smelling the faint medicinal aroma hidden beneath the floral fragrance, Muen couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

“Why can’t you just be a little more straightforward in your cuteness?”

...

It was already deep into the night.

Yet when Muen walked out of the bath, he saw that Celicia’s room was still brightly lit.

He hesitated, but still went forward and knocked on the door.

“May I come in?”

“...Come in.”

With a creak, the door opened.

Celicia kept her head lowered, still busily dealing with documents.

Round-faced Veil saw Muen and her pretty face instantly flushed, but she quickly turned her head away. “I’ll go brew you two something to drink. What do you want? Black tea or cof—”

“Coffee!”

Muen and Celicia blurted out in unison.

“Coffee it is, no need to shout about it.”

Veil’s eyes darted oddly between the two of them, then she swiftly left to prepare it.

At that moment, Celicia finally raised her head to look at Muen, her gaze faintly flickering.

Just out of the bath, Muen carried a refreshing air. The lamplight traced his profile, outlining a strikingly handsome line.

Even Celicia had to admit, the Campbell family’s genes were indeed flawless when it came to appearance.

No wonder that despite such a foul reputation, he still managed to attract so many women.

“So late, and you’re still busy?”

Muen leaned closer with some curiosity.

“Just some documents, helping the higher-ups process them.” Celicia did not conceal it, since these weren’t particularly secret.

“Is that so?”

Muen’s eyes instinctively swept over a few of the files, his brow lifting: “This kind of work... shouldn’t it be the Lower City’s governor handling it? Why are you doing it—where’s Viscount Goun?”

“He’s dead.”

Celicia’s voice was cold. “I killed him.”

“...”

Muen’s mouth twitched.

It seemed best not to ask why.

“Up above they’re still probably wrangling with each other over who should take the position. It’ll be some time before anyone’s appointed. So I’m just helping deal with it, nothing more.”

After a brief exchange, Celicia lowered her head and returned to work.

It really wasn’t secret, but even Muen, not adept at such matters, could see clearly how painstakingly tedious this was.

And the more tedious, the more it consumed one’s energy.

“But... it doesn’t really have to be you doing this, does it?”

Muen couldn’t help saying, “The Lower City wasn’t only managed by Viscount Goun.”

“...Of those officials, about a third I killed as well.”

Celicia added, “Another third are imprisoned. The last third were frightened out of their wits. As for those still usable... there aren’t many.”

“...”

“Of course I could just throw it all aside, and no one could blame me. In fact, if I do these things, those nobles might even accuse me before Father of overstepping. I really didn’t want to deal with it.

But...”

Celicia lowered her eyes, concealing her exhaustion, rubbing her temples as she spoke softly:

“But after such an incident, if the already chaotic Lower City is left without anyone to manage it, what kind of mess would it become?

How many people would die deaths they shouldn’t have to?”

“...”

The girl’s cool voice, mixed with the flickering candlelight, filled the deep night, in a bedroom where no one yet slept.

Muen suddenly lifted his head, silently staring at Celicia’s pretty face, for a long time without looking away.

Until Celicia, displeased with his unblinking gaze, lifted her head and glared back at him coldly. Only then did he suddenly grin.

“Celicia, has anyone ever told you something?”

“What?”

“That sometimes... you’re actually really kind of cute.”