Witch Monastery

Hanni gave her a mildly disgusted look. "I’ve told you a thousand times—I don’t want any of that. Are you deaf or just dumb?"

Lasdro pursed her lips and giggled. "Sometimes I just don’t get you. Any normal girl would have lost her virginity by her early teens, and here you are, a hundred years old, still acting all chaste. What’s the point?"

Hanni didn’t flinch. "Like I said, it’s about leverage. If you don’t value your own chips, at least don’t ruin mine."

Hearing that, Lasdro’s smile turned mocking. "So, deep down, all this virgin act is just to please some man?"

She leaned in and whispered in Hanni’s ear, "C’mon, spill. Whose son did you fall for that you’d want to honor him with eighty years of chastity?"

"Tell your big sister—I’ll test him out for you. See if he likes pure and innocent, or maybe he’ll prefer my... expert touch."

Hanni rolled her eyes. "Could you think any bigger? Is your world really limited to our own people?"

Sophia covered her mouth and kept up her taunt. "Unbelievable. Is this a genius quirk? You actually want to please a pack of half-baked monkeys?"

Elves had always looked down on other races, and Dark Elves were no exception—especially Dark Elf women. In their eyes, other sentient races were little more than beasts, only worthy of enslavement or abuse. It never even registered as an ethical concern.

Hanni gave Sophia a cold glare. She knew her sister was just jealous of her talents and was trying to strike back however she could.

Annoying as it was, Hanni didn’t mind a barb or two. True prodigies rarely got offended when called dumb—that was an insult only fools took to heart, because for them it was true.

What did bother her was her sister’s arrogance.

"Open your eyes and look at the world, sister." Hanni’s voice was calm but firm. "Human power is on the rise. Ancient empires might fall quickly, but overall, humanity keeps growing stronger. You’re not even the best out there—in fact, go outside and you’ll meet four or five humans stronger than me without even trying."

Sophia’s smile vanished. Her own meager magic talent and undisciplined lifestyle left her far weaker than her little sister—Hanni’s words hit right where it hurt, robbing her of all retort.

"You should be grateful," Hanni went on, "that even with their short lives, most humans are still bound by morality. Purity, loyalty, and fidelity still really mean something to them. That means you could trade your beauty, your natural-born assets, for tons of resources and leverage. Wait for them to grow old and die, and you inherit everything they worked a whole life for—without breaking a sweat."

A wry, mocking smile finally broke through on Hanni’s face. "But you can’t manage that. You can’t rein in your own desires—same as you can’t make yourself work on your magic. You throw away your best chips, then hide in self-pity, telling yourself outsiders are just lowly beasts. You’re just lying to yourself, a useless coward!"

Lasdro snapped—she leapt up, snatched Hanni’s book, and smacked her over the head with it. "You little wretch! How did our family breed such a shameful daughter? Ignoring your kin and treating trashy humans like treasure!"

Hanni didn’t even blink. Without so much as an incantation, her Shield spell flared instinctively and blocked the blow.

She stared up, gaze frosty. "You wanna fight?"

Lasdro huffed and stormed away—she knew she’d never win a real fight with her little sister, and anything more would just embarrass herself.

Wise enough to quit, she slammed her bedroom door and vanished in a huff.

Hanni watched her leave, sighed quietly as the "BANG—" faded down the hall.

How she wished her family would wake up and look at the real world—leverage the advantages they were born with to secure the family’s future.

But those with her mother’s ambition and enough humility to act on it were too rare. Most were still lost in the Dark Elves’ imaginary glory, refusing to wake up from their dreams...

It was a constant source of frustration, but for now, Hanni could only hope that the harshness of reality would one day jolt her kin back to their senses—and maybe the other Houses, too.

...

South Harbor District, inside the monastery’s newly constructed Level 1 Training Grounds.

Supporting Malena’s career ambitions, Charles had spent a hundred Purification Points to build a brand-new training ground near her home—great for the girls to try out new outfits, practice catwalks, and rehearse for shows.

Now, with today’s training finished, Charles finally had a rare bit of downtime. He sat in the gallery with several witches, quietly enjoying the rehearsal below.

Onstage, thirty hand-picked models strutted around, all dressed in clothes Charles had brainstormed and Malena had designed. They swapped glances, bubbling with excitement, each dreaming about what their debut performance might be like.

They were a mix—nuns and battle nuns working daily in the monastery, art-trained atone nuns, and even a few Dark Angels just like Malena herself.

Yes, Dark Angels too. These girls learned fast—most now had the basic know-how to survive in Liberl Port, but hadn’t mapped out their future paths. In the meantime, with nothing else to do, they rehearsed here.

Why let them idle? Malena suggested they join the fashion show. Once made up, they’d look the same as anyone else anyway. Even if anyone wondered, they’d just blame the makeup for being too good...

Ahem.

In fact, rehearsals were going well. After a few months, all thirty models were showing real progress—no matter the outfit, they could take the stage and draw every eye, banishing the stage fright they’d had a month before.

Like it or not, they all had strong bodies and natural poise to start with—a little training was all it took.

They could actually do justice to Charles’s designs—none of those lovely dresses looked awkward for lack of curves.

Sitting in the gallery, Charles quietly enjoyed the show. Beside him sat Sophia, content and watchful. She’d spent months teaching the Dark Angels and making sure they fit right in, so she often joined Charles for these run-throughs.

But watching, her mind wandered to other things.

She leaned over and whispered, "Master, you see it too, right? These ’Dark Angels’—while still a bit green—are quite capable. Isn’t it a waste to leave them doing nothing but Malena’s little make-believe shows?"

She paused, then added, "I’d like to introduce more practical skills to their lessons—say, self-defense? Combat basics?"

Her thinking was clear and, in some ways, much like Sulpharlo’s: turn them into soldiers—tools for Charles.

But Charles shook his head. "You can increase the lessons, but stick to our core approach: just basic life skills, unless they really want to go further."

He gazed out, eyes lost in thought as those angelic girls smiled and glided across the stage. "Don’t force it."

Sophia nodded lightly and, even as she did, a bold idea flashed through her mind: if "basic" life skills were taught a little more widely, maybe her agenda and Master’s ideals could both be satisfied.

Things like simple weapon drills, formation basics—those could be considered "fundamentals," right?

Yes. That would do!

Resolved, she looked forward, savoring the contentment on the girls’ faces.

These Dark Angels were all born with exceptional bodies and magic affinity—how could anyone let lives like theirs go to waste in obscurity?

~~~

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