The towers of Alfea College for Fairies rose like pale spires against the night sky.
From a distance they had seemed elegant.
Up close, the archer noticed something else.
Control.
Every stone, every glowing lantern, every carved archway had been built with magical intent. The entire campus functioned like a carefully constructed magical circuit.
Not magecraft.
But something close enough to study.
Students moved through the courtyards in small groups, their laughter echoing softly between the towers. None of them paid much attention to the stranger walking beside Bloom and Stella—though a few curious glances followed him.
The archer ignored them.
His gray eyes continued analyzing the environment.
Fairy magic.
Bright.
Unstable.
Emotional.
The complete opposite of the rigid logic that governed magecraft.
Bloom led the group through a wide hallway lined with tall windows.
"This way," she said. "The headmistress should still be awake."
Stella glanced at the archer.
"So… do you have a name, mysterious guy?"
Silence.
The archer kept walking.
Bloom elbowed Stella lightly.
"Maybe he just doesn't like talking."
"Or maybe he's secretly a villain," Stella whispered.
The archer stopped.
Both girls nearly walked into him.
At the end of the hallway stood a tall set of doors carved with glowing runes.
Bloom pushed them open.
Inside was a quiet office illuminated by soft golden light.
Behind a large desk sat an elderly woman with silver hair and calm, watchful eyes.
She looked up from the book in front of her.
This was Faragonda.
Bloom stepped forward eagerly.
"Headmistress, we found someone in the forest!"
Faragonda's gaze shifted immediately toward the archer.
The moment she sensed his presence, something in her expression changed.
Not fear.
But caution.
"…I see."
The archer met her gaze calmly.
Unlike the students outside, this woman understood magic on a deeper level.
She could already feel it.
The Archer card.
A power completely foreign to the Magic Dimension.
Faragonda closed her book slowly.
"You may leave us, Bloom. Stella."
Bloom blinked.
"Oh… okay."
Stella looked slightly disappointed but followed her out of the room.
The doors closed behind them.
Silence filled the office.
For several seconds neither of them spoke.
Faragonda studied him carefully.
"Your magic," she said quietly, "does not belong to this world."
The archer didn't deny it.
"No."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"And yet it is stable."
"That depends on your definition of stable."
Faragonda leaned back in her chair.
"Where did you come from?"
The archer paused before answering.
"Another world."
A simple statement.
But the magical pressure behind it carried enough truth that Faragonda did not question it.
She folded her hands together.
"And the power you carry?"
"A tool."
"That is not what it feels like."
Of course it didn't.
The Archer card contained the legend of a hero.
Even in another world, that presence was impossible to hide completely.
The archer remained silent.
Faragonda seemed to accept that she would not get more information easily.
After a moment she spoke again.
"You may stay at Alfea for the time being."
The archer's eyes shifted slightly.
"Temporary hospitality?"
"Observation," Faragonda corrected calmly.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"You are not the first unusual guest Alfea has received."
The archer considered that.
A magical academy was the best place to gather information.
Leaving immediately would accomplish nothing.
"…Understood."
Faragonda stood.
"I will arrange a place for you to stay."
Before the conversation could continue—
A ripple of magic spread across the campus.
Faragonda froze.
Her expression changed instantly.
That wasn't fairy magic.
It was darker.
Sharper.
More structured.
The archer felt it too.
Magecraft.
Faragonda turned toward the window.
"…Something has just arrived in the Magic Dimension."
The archer already knew the answer.
Only one person he knew used magecraft like that.
Somewhere beyond the walls of Alfea—
Lust had arrived.
The storm clouds gathering above the northern mountains moved slowly.
From the tall windows of Cloud Tower, the sky looked darker than the rest of the Magic Dimension.
Inside the ancient halls of the witch academy, the atmosphere was quieter than usual.
The air itself felt… disturbed.
In one of the high chambers overlooking the valley, three figures stood around a glowing crystal sphere.
They had felt it.
The disturbance.
The first to speak was Icy.
Her pale blue eyes narrowed as the magical sphere flickered.
"That energy again."
Beside her, Stormy leaned forward impatiently.
"It's not fairy magic."
"No," Icy replied coldly.
"And it's not witch magic either."
The third witch stepped closer to the sphere.
Darcy studied the swirling magical distortion inside the crystal.
"Whoever it is," she said slowly, "they're powerful."
The magical image inside the sphere suddenly warped.
For a moment, the crystal lost its connection completely.
Then the image reformed.
But something had changed.
The magic inside the sphere began unraveling.
Like a spell being taken apart piece by piece.
Darcy stepped back immediately.
"…Someone is interfering."
Stormy frowned.
"Interfering with what?"
"With us."
Across the chamber—
a quiet voice answered.
"With observation."
The three witches turned instantly.
Someone was standing near the far wall.
None of them had sensed her enter.
The woman stood calmly beneath the tall window, the moonlight illuminating her figure.
Long dark hair.
Cold, analytical eyes.
Her presence carried a strange magical pressure—precise and structured in a way none of the witches had ever felt before.
Around her fingers, faint magical symbols rotated slowly like fragments of an unfinished spell.
This was Lust.
The holder of the Caster card tied to Medea.
Stormy reacted first.
Lightning crackled around her hands.
"Who are you?!"
Lust glanced at the electricity forming around the witch's fingers.
Her expression remained completely calm.
"Interesting."
That was her only response.
Icy stepped forward, her voice cold.
"You broke into Cloud Tower."
Her magic began gathering around her feet as frost spread slowly across the floor.
"That was a mistake."
Lust studied the spreading ice carefully.
"…Emotional magic," she murmured.
Stormy frowned.
"What?"
Lust raised one hand.
A small spell circle appeared in the air.
Elegant.
Perfectly symmetrical.
Completely different from the magic used by the witches.
Darcy's eyes widened slightly.
"…That magic structure…"
It wasn't wild like fairy magic.
It wasn't chaotic like witch spells.
It was deliberate.
Mathematical.
Magecraft.
Lust lowered her hand.
The spell circle vanished.
"I was curious about this world," she said calmly.
Stormy scoffed.
"So you broke into our school?"
Lust tilted her head slightly.
"School?"
Her eyes drifted across the chamber.
"So this is an educational institution."
Icy's patience was clearly running out.
"Enough."
The temperature in the room dropped rapidly.
"Explain why you're here."
Lust finally looked directly at her.
"…I arrived recently."
Darcy crossed her arms.
"From where?"
Lust paused.
Then she answered simply.
"Another world."
For a moment, none of the witches spoke.
Then Stormy laughed.
"Yeah, sure."
Lightning surged around her arm.
"Let's see if you're still joking after this."
The bolt of lightning shot across the room.
It should have struck Lust directly.
Instead—
The spell circle appeared instantly.
The lightning hit the magical barrier and dispersed harmlessly.
Stormy froze.
"…What?"
Lust lowered her hand again.
"Primitive spell construction," she said calmly.
Stormy's expression twisted with anger.
"Primitive?!"
Before the witches could attack again—
Lust spoke once more.
"I am not here to fight you."
The three witches hesitated slightly.
Icy narrowed her eyes.
"Then why are you here?"
For the first time, Lust's gaze shifted toward the distant horizon outside the tower window.
Toward the direction of Alfea College for Fairies.
"…Because someone else arrived here with me."
Darcy noticed the direction she was looking.
"You mean the other energy we felt?"
Lust nodded slightly.
Stormy frowned.
"You know who it is?"
Lust's expression didn't change.
"Yes."
Far away, inside Alfea, the archer stood silently on a balcony overlooking the campus.
He was staring toward the northern mountains.
Toward Cloud Tower.
Because he could feel it clearly now.
Lust had already begun moving.