The other two Imperial Arcanes rushed toward their leader when Worm's magic was dispelled and they saw her lying on the floor.
Her spirit seemed broken.
But, as ordered by Seraphine, no one had been hurt.
"Miss Velmora! What happened? As soon as that massive surge of magic filled the room, we couldn't see or hear anything," asked the other Arcane, trying to help her stand.
The nobles, just as lost as the two Arcanes, erupted into murmurs.
The fallen woman tried to look at Worm one more time, but a single meeting of their eyes was enough to make her give up.
She rose with the support of the other two Arcanes, avoiding looking directly at Seraphine's spirit.
"I…" his eyes flashed through her mind. "I'm fine, but seeing him destroy fifteen seals was a shock."
"Fifteen?!" the evaluator exclaimed.
The nobles' murmuring echoed endlessly through the hall.
"Fifteen?"
"Fifteen? Impossible!"
"Fifteen? What kind of joke is this?!"
They shouted, now all standing beside their chairs.
The scouts neither shouted nor questioned. They simply wrote, letting their employers ask the questions later.
"This is fabulous," the evaluator said. "Breaking fifteen seals? Even the crown princess's spirit only managed twelve."
"Absurd!" a noble shouted.
He was interrupted by the Arcane leader.
"Gentlemen, I attest in the name of House Velmora: the spirit of the girl Seraphine broke fifteen seals."
"And not only that," the evaluator added. "Even though similar results in raw magic output exist in other records, I've never seen anything like the attack on the black metal cube."
"Yes, without a doubt, a singular spirit. As unique as the Blizzard Spirit of our beloved princess. Truly a remarkable day. This will further elevate the prestige of our great empire."
The evaluator looked pleased.
Unlike the director, who knew far more about Worm's true nature.
Seraphine, meanwhile, stood there listening to so many comments about her spirit—and about herself.
All the resolve she thought she had gained upon entering that building vanished. Only one doubt lingered in her mind as she ignored everything around her and stared at Worm.
_"Why… me?"_
As if they could read her thoughts, the same doubt now came from the nobles, spoken aloud.
"Why her?"
"A girl without nobility…"
"Look at how dull her eyes are. She probably doesn't even have enough magic to maintain the seal."
"I suggest we break the seal and bind the spirit to someone of noble blood. My daughter, for example," said one noble with a confident smile.
"If anyone is going to keep that spirit, it will obviously be my family," said another, grooming his thin mustache.
"You? A house as provincial as yours? Obviously it should be given to me, since I am related to His Imperial Majesty," said a woman, hiding part of her face behind a luxurious fan.
"No one but the imperial family should possess a spirit of such power. I propose we gift it to the princess's younger brother, who will perform his invocation next year."
The suggestions about what to do with Seraphine's spirit went on for quite some time.
The girl hadn't considered that possibility.
Could they break the seal and take Worm away?
Was that even possible?
Her heart tightened.
She looked toward him.
Worm's expression was indifferent.
Then he began walking toward the center of the room.
Only Seraphine and the director noticed.
Worm lifted his right foot a few inches off the ground.
When he brought it down, the impact echoed through the entire hall.
Everyone looked at him.
The nobles fell silent.
The scouts stopped writing.
"Why her?" Worm's voice was deep, serious—completely different from the tone he used with Seraphine.
People were in shock.
Spirits didn't speak.
They only communicated mentally with their masters.
Worm continued, ignoring the stares.
"Perhaps that's the wrong question. Instead, ask yourselves: why not you? Honestly, you're boring, treacherous… and you exhaust me just by existing."
The nobles weren't used to spirits speaking—much less contradicting them.
"Killing everyone here would be so much easier. Maybe even fun.
But her… that girl. A merchant's daughter, without the corruption of nobility in her blood.
She asked me not to hurt anyone."
The nobles couldn't believe what they were hearing.
"And what do you do? You consider breaking the seal that binds me to the only thing keeping this city standing and your hearts beating? Frankly, that's a disregard for life that even impresses me… even coming from…"
He smiled.
"Worms."
Worm walked slowly toward Seraphine.
"But out of courtesy, I'll answer the question."
He grabbed the girl's chin and forced her to look at him.
"Why her?"
His eyes met hers.
"Because she is my mistress.
And I am her Worm.
"And no one but her will control me."
Seraphine's face turned red.
Her heart raced.
There was nothing more appropriate she could say.
"Pervert."
And in that moment, there were no doubts left in her mind.
The nobles, however, were in shock.
Worm had not only humiliated them—he had threatened their lives.
Some of them stood up, clearly intending to advance on Worm and Seraphine, their spirits appearing beside them.
They were stopped.
The director's dryad placed both hands on the floor.
The tips of her fingers turned into thick, thorn-covered vines that spread across the ground and rose up, forming a massive barrier between the nobles and Worm.
A conflict was about to erupt.
The director stopped it with precise words.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the lack of discipline of my student's spirit. I assure you I will take measures to prevent such disrespect from happening again."
She took a deep breath before continuing.
"But I also ask for your understanding: the pact ceremony was sanctioned and is protected by the emperor himself. His Highness made exceptions so that children of merchants who made generous donations could study at the institute and have the chance to bind with spirits."
"Breaking a seal and attempting to bind a spirit to another master would be tantamount to treason. And I doubt families as distinguished and important to the empire would want to be associated with such an accusation."
The silence was heavy.
"I ask that you forgive the thoughtless words of Miss Seraphine's spirit, and we will forget that you even considered breaking one of the pacts."
The director turned her gaze to Seraphine and Worm.
She looked exhausted.
But her words had been precise.
No noble worth their name would want to be linked to treason.
Director Rosencrown feared Worm—but she was just as cunning as he was.
"You may withdraw the vines, Emerald."
The dryad obeyed instantly.
The vines unraveled, retreating across the floor until they disappeared back into Emerald's fingers.
"Praise the gods. Everything was resolved peacefully," the evaluator said, approaching the director as the nobles reluctantly returned to their seats.
_Peacefully_ was a generous way to describe what had just happened.
The nobles had been threatened by a spirit.
Their status had been shaken by a merchant's daughter.
And they had been, implicitly, accused of treason by the director herself.
"Yes, sir," Rosencrown replied. "As peaceful as it could be. But I already foresee letters and visits from displeased nobles."
She looked even older after resolving the conflict.
The nobles left the registry building with dissatisfied expressions, followed by the three Arcanes and their spirits.
The scouts stayed a few minutes longer, furiously writing everything down.
Soon after, they left one by one through the hole in the wall—the breach left by Worm's attack on the black metal cube.
Only the director and the evaluator remained.
Secretary Felicia waited outside.
"Well, young miss," the evaluator said, approaching Seraphine. "Now that the chaos has settled, allow me to congratulate you on the incredible spirit you possess. I believe he will be a valuable addition to the imperial forces."
"Before I forget: the registration will be completed in three days. I'll send the paperwork to Lady Rosencrown's office."
He extended his hand and shook hers enthusiastically.
He had never done such a thing before, but he also extended his hand toward the spirit.
After all, that one was different in every way.
Worm didn't seem to care much.
Still, he shook the evaluator's hand—after receiving a kick to the shin from Seraphine.
It went without saying that Worm loved the kick.
_Maybe I should retire,_ the director thought, watching a demon lord being disciplined by a fifth-year student right after nearly killing half the empire's nobility.
"Anyway, Miss Seraphine," Rosencrown said. "Go to the dining hall and eat something before your first class. Breakfast period is over, but I can't allow you to start the day without food—especially after all this."
Seraphine and Worm passed through the hole in the wall and headed toward the main institute building, leaving the director behind.
She stayed to speak with Felicia, whose feline spirit rested at her feet.
"That was… intense," Felicia commented.
"To say the least," Rosencrown replied, rubbing her face, visibly exhausted. "And honestly, I doubt he showed everything he's capable of."
"And if the Lady of the Forest's reports are accurate, I think we got the best possible outcome."
Felicia hesitated before responding.
"Yes, Lady Rosencrown… but I fear the nobility's reaction. I doubt they'll accept this so easily once the effect of your bluff fades. I'm sure they'll come after the spirit—or worse…"
"…after the girl."
Rosencrown closed her eyes for a moment.
"That is one of my greatest fears, Felicia. I pray the Lady of the Forest can free us from the shadow looming over the institute before some fool tries to harm the girl under the demon's protection."
The two watched Seraphine and Worm walk away toward the institute.
Seraphine, a few steps ahead, stopped and finally asked the question that had been bothering her since Worm's speech to the nobles.
"That was a bluff, right? You wouldn't really kill them… would you?"
She received no verbal answer.
Only Worm's malicious gaze, directed toward the imperial city.
Seraphine decided to drop the subject—for now.
They entered the institute through the main doors.
Not long after, in a large warehouse located in one of the poorest areas of the imperial city, one of the scouts who had witnessed Worm's registration knocked on a massive wooden door.
It wasn't an ordinary knock.
There was rhythm.
And meaning.
It wasn't just a request to enter.
It was a password.
When the scout finished the elaborate sequence, the door opened, revealing a tall, rough-looking man.
"You're back already?" the man said in a deep voice. "The boss is waiting."
The scout entered the warehouse, filled with goods of dubious origin, followed closely by the brute.
They weaved through corridors formed by crates and barrels until they reached a more open area near the far wall.
There, a man sat atop a table, partially concealed by the shadows cast by one of the roof beams.
Only one of his arms was fully visible; the other remained hidden in darkness.
A large scar crossed his face, slicing through his left eye and extending into his brown hair, shaved on the sides.
When the scout entered his full field of view, the scarred man watched him with interest.
"So," he said. "Anything worth it?"
"Boss… you have no idea," the scout replied, sitting in the chair across from him and tossing his notes aside.
The papers were blank.
The supposed scout began his report.
"There are two potential targets. Two merchant daughters formed pacts with spirits strong as hell. But what I saw today… this is big. One of them threatened the nobles right to their faces."
"Cut the bullshit, Hal," the scarred man said. "Spirits don't talk. How would he threaten nobles?"
"This one talks," the scout replied without hesitation. "And he seems to be just as much of a bastard as you are, boss."
The man sitting on the table laughed.
He stopped immediately when the scarred man glared at him.
"A talking spirit… strong enough to draw the nobility's attention?" he murmured. "I want that one."
The scarred man's eyes gleamed as he rose from the table.
When he stepped fully out of the shadows, his left arm was revealed by the light filtering through the warehouse's cracks.
His forearm was covered in summoning circles.
Many of them.
Ancient.
Some partially erased.
And judging by the look of it…
He intended to add one more.