'Shit!'
Nana froze, the lollipop halfway to her lips. Her yellow eyes flicked toward Jane, sharp and wary now, as if realizing she had let something slip.
"What name?" Nana asked carefully, her tone deliberately flat.
"Don't play with me, Nana-chan." Jane's grip on her shoulder tightened. "You said Morgana."
The name trembled on her tongue like a secret she wasn't supposed to know. Jane was on the edge now, especially after she recalled what happened inside that red gate.
The spider boss kidnapped Nana.
The same boss who shielded her from Olivia's deleting magic, the same boss who shared the blood of her dear grandmother. And now her friend, who came in close contact with the spider boss, suddenly dropped the name of her grandmother?
'This can't be a coincidence'
Jane needed an answer, the truth about what the spider boss was, and if that reincarnation theory was somehow true. That would mean her dear grandmother was alive, just in a different form.
Nana's fingers tightened around the lollipop until the stick creaked. Her usual cool mask cracked for just an instant, yet she managed to cover it before anyone else had time to notice.
"Oh yeah... she's my in-game guild member," Nana said, with a hint of annoyance. "That bitch was careless and caused our last raid to fail, and yet she had the audacity to try to apologize with sweets."
Jane was smart and could see through lies; however, given Nana's history of playing video games and the fact that Nana-chan tended to be overly salty over silly game things made it difficult to know whether or not she was truly lying.
'However, there was something familiar about the way she spoke that name,' Jane thought to herself. 'Maybe it was just my distant hopes.'
Nana leaned back in her chair, crunching down on the lollipop like she was trying to bite through more than just sugar. Her yellow eyes narrowed as she looked straight ahead, her expression carefully sculpted into irritation — the kind of mask Jane had seen her wear countless times when she wanted to shut people out.
But Jane couldn't ignore it. The name Morgana. The spider queen's blood. Everything had felt like a horrible joke before, but now... now she couldn't dismiss the possibility, even if she wanted to.
Too many threads were weaving together. And more importantly.
'My grandmother was too powerful to be killed like that.' Jane was sure that the Blood Queen's death was off. She could feel it in her bones.
'I mean, how can she be killed by her own son?'
"Jane," Ella whispered from the desk beside her, nudging her arm. "You're spacing out again. Stop glaring at Nana, you're making it weird."
"Yeah," Sarah added with a dramatic sigh. "You vanish for a month, and now you come back acting like some detective from a bad drama? Relax. Not everything has to be some grand conspiracy."
Jane forced a smile at her friends, but her eyes never left Nana.
'I'll make sure to keep an eye on her.'
One thing that Jane learned from her grandmother, and also her detective mother: if there is a 0.00001% chance that your instincts are right, then never let go!
The room buzzed with the chatter of other students, but Jane hardly noticed. Her gaze stayed locked on Nana, studying every twitch of her lips, every flicker in her eyes. Nana acted calm — too calm — the kind of calm that screamed she was hiding something.
'She knows something. I don't care how good her poker face is; I can feel it. She slipped once… she'll slip again.'
Nana, for her part, seemed perfectly content to ignore Jane, crunching away at the lollipop, wondering why the hell her mother sent her back to the academy so soon.
After Nora's arachne transformation, she decided that she would move to live with Nana in the capital and help her with the guild preparations. Nana didn't mind it; in fact, she was overjoyed. Finally, having her mother back and free from that terrible health condition. Moreover, Nora had plenty of experience in managing hunter guilds; after all, she was responsible for that bastard of a husband's guild.
After a little body adjustment and hair dye, Nora took on a form that was similar to Lady Raven and decided to play the role of Raven's mother. Nana didn't think about it too much and introduced her mother to Anna the maid, Greska the half-giant, and Shae the dark elf assassin.
Unlike Nana, who liked to keep the character of Lady Raven on all the time, Nora was more open to people and loved to act casual and talk to everyone freely, almost like a mother figure. She had a certain charm that made everyone in the mansion instantly like her.
After a week of rest, Nora kicked her daughter back to the academy while she was staying home, enjoying her newly acquired body and preparing for the guild's formation.
However, Nana knew the true reason why her mother kicked her out.
'That bitc–... sending me back here so she can hog Greska's giant cock all to herself. Unbelievable!' Nana exclaimed inwardly.
She had plans for Greska. And Shae, too. She'd been patient, waiting for the right moment to reel them in, savor their loyalty and their bodies. But apparently her mother, fresh out of her arachne transformation and suddenly brimming with vigor, wasn't about to wait.
'I should've known she'd dive on them the second her eyes landed on their crotches. Damn her!'
"Arrrrhhh!!" Nana snarled softly under her breath, her nails digging into the desk.
"What was that?" Jane's sharp ears caught it immediately. Her head whipped toward her, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey. "Did you say Morgana again?"
"Don't start, you dumb ass," she hissed, crunching down the rest of the candy with a violent bite.
"Tsk." Jane turned her face away, but her blue eyes gleamed with quiet fire. She didn't need Nana's confession to know. Every twitch, every slip, every half-second of hesitation told her enough.
'She knows something. And if I'm right—even by the smallest chance—then I can't let her out of my sight.'
Step. Step.
The chatter of the classroom cut off instantly as the door opened and a tall figure strode in. His uniform was immaculate, every button gleaming, the fabric pressed to perfection. Long blond hair spilled down his shoulders like strands of sunlight, and the sharp point of his ears betrayed his heritage. An elf—refined, untouchable, the kind of presence that silenced a room without effort.
"Professor Lysander," Ella whispered under her breath, straightening in her seat. Even Alex, who always acted like he couldn't care less, sat up a little taller.
Jane blinked, pulling her eyes away from Nana for the first time in what felt like hours. Lysander's steps were measured, deliberate, each one echoing against the stone floor as if the building itself respected his presence.
"Good afternoon," his voice carried across the classroom, calm but commanding. "I trust you're all happy to see me."
On the contrary, not a single soul in the room was happy to see him. Why? Because Professor Lysander's class was unlike any other—and in the eyes of most students, the cruelest.
Arcanometrics
The study of magic through mathematical principles.
Seriously?! Try convincing a hall full of arrogant young hunters-in-training that, in order to cast a blazing fireball or summon a lightning strike, they must first learn a sequence of equations so complicated it made their heads spin.
Try telling them that raw talent wasn't enough—that without ratios, balances, and resonant formulas, their "cool spells" would collapse on themselves. That was Lysander's lesson. And that was why he was the most hated professor in the academy.
The only thing saving him from utter loathing was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome. The elegance of his elven heritage, his smooth voice, and the way his golden eyes caught the light softened the blow just enough that half the girls—and a fair share of boys—didn't openly riot every time he walked in.
But still. Fireball math? Nobody signed up for this.
"Today," Lysander continued, his long fingers tapping once against the desk, "we will not waste time reviewing your failures from last term. Instead, we will explore resonance."
A hushed ripple spread through the room. Resonance. The word carried weight.
Jane's heart gave a sudden, painful jolt. Resonance…
Her grandmother had spoken about it once—the way bloodlines whispered to each other, the way ancient power could stir when the right frequency was touched.
Beside her, Nana had gone unnaturally still.
...
For a full two hours, Professor Lysander's smooth, deep voice echoed across the classroom, weaving equations and diagrams into an endless tapestry of logic and mana flow. To most of the students, it wasn't knowledge—it was torture.
By the time the bell rang, the air was heavy with groans and muffled curses. Several students slumped over their desks as if their very souls had been drained. Sarah had her forehead pressed flat against her notebook, whispering, "Kill me now…" Ella was rubbing her temples furiously, muttering every formula under her breath as if sheer repetition could force them to stick. Even Alex—always the energetic one—looked pale, his notes a mess of scribbles.
"I need to use the bathroom." Nana got to her feet so quickly she knocked her chair back a few inches. "See you guys later."
Only when Nana exited the classroom.
"Me too." Jane stood up and decided to follow the pink-haired girl.
"Why am I not surprised?" Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes. "You two always use that as an excuse to disappear. Are you trying to run or something?"
"Hmmm." Jane ignored her friend and soon followed Nana outside.
Nana, on the other hand, didn't care about anything other than fulfilling one of the most important goals she had at the academy.
Harvesting semen.
There was no better hunting ground than a place brimming with arrogant, hormone-drenched boys who thought with their lower halves more than their heads. The academy was full of them—warriors, mages, heirs of noble families, each overflowing with vitality and pride. Easy prey.
Her lips curled around the second lollipop stick as she strolled through the hallway, her hips swaying just enough to catch the eye of a passing group of second-years. Their laughter faltered, gazes lingering, and Nana smirked inwardly. Too easy.
Nana pushed open the door to the girls' bathroom, letting it creak just loud enough to echo off the tiles. The scent of floral cleaning powder mixed faintly with the musk of too many students rushing in and out throughout the day. A row of stalls lined the far wall, each with doors that clicked shut in neat sequence. Perfect.
She didn't need silence to work—she needed privacy, shadow, and opportunity. And this bathroom, tucked at the edge of the east wing where few bothered to wander after lectures, gave her just that.
Her golden eyes swept the stalls one by one, a slow, assessing scan. Some were empty. Some had legs dangling, stockings around knees, girls chatting in hushed tones as if they were in a lounge rather than a restroom. But Nana wasn't here for idle gossip.
She stepped past the sinks, her reflection flashing sharp and hungry in the mirror, and slipped into the largest stall at the end. The lock clicked into place.
Her lollipop stick bent between her teeth as she crouched on the toilet lid, balancing with the grace of a predator poised in its den.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The sound echoed lightly against the stall wall. For a breath, silence followed. Then, with a faint ripple of mana, a circle of the tile shimmered and warped until a hole no wider than a fist yawned open, and from within a nice long penis emerged.
Nana licked her lips.
"Perfect."