The wall burst open with a deafening crash.

Cement and wood exploded into a cloud of dust just as a girl, shielded by a swirl of green ink, rolled across the floor.

"Destroying someone else’s property isn’t exactly classy..." a pained voice slipped out between muffled groans.

Her rabbit ears twitched slightly at the change in temperature. Carefully, Selene scanned her surroundings and soon noticed the flow of water and tiled floor.

It was a luxurious bathhouse, several times larger than her own. With the cold mist seeping in from outside, the rising steam and warm air inside were strikingly apparent. It didn’t look freshly prepared, which made her wonder if the elves kept it heated at all times.

"Rich people think differently..."

With a sigh, the red-dressed girl—her midriff exposed—looked at the pillars she had just destroyed, their rubble clouding the pristine water of the grand bath.

"My Rival wouldn’t let them throw me in a dark cellar and force me to work until death just to pay this off, right?"

Setting aside her nonexistent savings, Selene questioned whether selling her own mansion would even cover half the damages she’d already caused.

A shiver crawled down her spine, but before she could sink deeper into spiraling thoughts, the voice she’d been waiting for rang out.

"You just talk and talk, you filthy demi-human."

Stepping through the shattered opening, Belladona brushed aside the white hair falling over her crimson eyes. The calm mask she once wore was gone—her brow veined, her breath flaring with anger.

"People don’t usually listen to me this much. I usually get shut down first," Selene shrugged as she stood, raising her finger to point at the woman. "But you’re the second person who’s tried to kill me because of it."

Fighting in heavy clothing was never comfortable, so Selene had been careful not to get drenched, keeping herself out of the water. Belladona, however, seemed unconcerned.

With a powerful leap, the demoness with twisted horns landed her platinum boots squarely on the bath’s surface, sending water splashing in all directions. The moment she did, Selene swallowed hard.

Belladona hadn’t been wearing much to begin with. Soaked, countless rivulets of water ran down every sharp curve of her body, creating a dangerously alluring sight. The sheen of her bare thighs and the sway of her breasts were dazzling, and Selene found herself looking away more than once just to resist staring.

The lavish bath reminded her that skin quality and the fragrance of hair could be defined by the herbs and products one used for care. She doubted this demoness cared about such things. How could someone with such a twisted personality have a body that gorgeous? Honestly, Selene wanted to roll on the floor screaming at how unfair it was.

"Why do I feel like I’ve lost... to a panty-flashing exhibitionist?"

Covering her face with one hand, Selene fought to suppress her hyperactive imagination from diving into obscenities. She didn’t have time for that now.

"Devour."

"Die."

The crimson ink wolf clashed against the silver dagger at the same time Selene’s knee struck Belladona’s arm.

A mage couldn’t rely on magic alone—learning to fight with the body was essential. During the clash, Selene noticed how refined Belladona’s movements were, showing almost no openings, no wasted effort.

With her legs briefly blocking the demoness’s vision, Selene twisted her body midair to lift her heel. The moment the tip of her high heel pointed toward the ceiling, she thrust her body forward, aiming straight for her opponent’s head.

A sharp crack rang out as her foot struck the tiled floor. Abandoning the idea of blocking, Belladona rolled under Selene, forcing her attack to miss.

“Tsk!” A hiss escaped Selene’s lips just as a kick slammed into the exposed side of her stomach. It was only a single strike, yet it made her ribs feel as if they had caught fire.

All of her weight had been poured into that failed strike, leaving her wide open for a counterattack.

But that didn’t mean Selene would give up.

Using her left hand, she caught the demoness’s raised foot before the shockwave could hurl her away. Selene clutched the toned leg tightly against her chest, locking the joint in place. Like a snake, her legs coiled around the limb, a feral grin spreading across her face.

Twisting her hips, the rabbit-eared girl clenched her teeth and wrenched the limb backward, arching her body with raw force. Every muscle strained as she fought against flesh and bone—until that sound came. A dry, unmistakable crack.

The sharp, immediate, absolute pain tore through the woman’s nervous system.

Selene had snapped her right leg without a shred of hesitation.

And yet, not a single scream escaped her lips.

“[Venomous Sculpture]”

The words, hot as the blood pouring from the exposed fracture, sent a shiver racing down Selene’s spine.

Her instincts blared like a siren. Without hesitation, she released the leg and pushed herself away from the floor, retreating in an instant.

That fleeting silence was enough to make Selene feel as if her future had suddenly gone dark.

It wasn’t just a sticky, red pool.

Cascading from the broken limb like a crimson waterfall, the blood was streaked with black veins. Slowly, its texture shifted, condensing and expanding into a gelatinous mass that gleamed with a dull inner light as it wrapped itself around Belladona’s body.

It was no longer mere viscous liquid. Upon touching the platinum armor, the blood hardened instantly, like molten metal plunged into cold water.

The air filled with a corrosive metallic stench.

Scarlet boots encased her feet, spreading upward to armor her legs. Plates overlapped to shield her waist, while her chest was now covered by a breastplate of visceral texture. Her head, hidden beneath a smooth crimson helm, kept her long white hair bound tight.

And at the base of her spine, the strap that once held her dagger was consumed by the blood, forming a long, segmented tail—flexible and deadly, like that of a crimson scorpion.

“I know some people are rotten on the inside, but in their blood? Seriously?” The quip was all Selene could muster to keep panic from tightening its grip. “If your breath’s poisonous too, then I really pity whoever’s tried kissing you.”

“Fuck you,” Belladona roared.

What Selene could only call the most terrifying armor her eyes had ever witnessed lunged at her, the ground around it decaying under the poison’s touch.

In a single instant, a massive green wall erupted before her.

The paint sizzled and bubbled on contact with the venom, and the crimson-black armored fist punched through with ease.

Leaping back, Selene watched the dagger descend toward her head. Like a scorpion’s tail striking its prey, it came down like a venomous stinger.

There was no longer any room to worry about staying dry.

Her brush spun between her fingers. Like a sharpened wooden stake being driven down, the weapon of stardust struck the tiled floor. The impact, reinforced by dense layers of mana, split the walls, sent the water in the massive tub crashing outward, and opened a gaping hole across the floor.

In a single instant, everyone inside plummeted into the hall below, thousands of liters of water crashing down like a tsunami.

To avoid being crushed, Selene leapt between falling debris with nimble precision. Even in freefall, the dagger zigzagged after her, hunting for her flesh.

Cultivating poison within her own blood and amplifying its effect with mana when needed… Selene didn’t know the exact principle, but she theorized that it allowed Belladona to remain immune to magic while still inflicting devastating damage on her opponents.

Grabbing chunks of collapsing floor, Selene hurled them toward the weapon. A sound like raw flesh being torn echoed as the wooden shards collided with the dagger, immediately turning a sickly green.

“Sexy panties under a full suit of armor… not the best choice, but as an enthusiast, I’ll give you a solid nine out of ten for the effort.”

Finally landing on the ground—what she instantly recognized as the grand entrance hall—Selene’s eyes widened in confusion as the dagger suddenly froze midair.

The echo of crimson boots striking the soaked floor rang out. Retracting her scorpion tail to her side, Belladona’s furious glare softened in an instant. Not as though she was calming down, but as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped directly over her head.

“…The better choice, is it?”

Snapping her broken leg back into place in one swift motion, she downed a golden potion until the bottle ran dry, tossing it to the ground where it shattered across the wet tiles.

“Tell me, you filthy loudmouth, do you even know what it means to be second place?” Belladona’s voice was cold, stripped of all heat, though her words seethed with rage. “I spent nearly a century in this forsaken forest just to bend all those fools to my will!”

Her teeth clenched so hard a streak of red trickled from her lips.

“I infiltrated the council of the most secluded nation in the world! I shattered the World Tree’s barrier! I was the one who found a way to break the seal!”

The demoness stared down at her own palms, veins bulging across her body.

“And yet, even after becoming the direct subordinate of the Third Twilight, I’m still just the second option! All because that wretched Orlaith’s magic is more convenient!”

Unlike Orlaith, Belladona couldn’t control people directly. That, of course, ensured her followers’ loyalty—they acted by their own will, not because their minds were shackled. They were perfect pawns for espionage, their personalities and thoughts intact. Becoming as close as lovers or blood relatives, there was no reason for secrets, and she could gather information long-term without ever resorting to torture. Dedicated to her, each of them would betray friends, fight, and die for her.

But it also meant she had to seduce them, draw them in, and make them want to help her—through long exposure to her toxins and techniques. It was inefficient if they lacked the right predisposition, and it could collapse instantly if she allowed even the slightest rebellion among her pawns.

It was a method that valued quality over quantity. So risky and convoluted that it had taken her decades to refine and perfect.

“No matter how many times that wretch fails, the Twilights overlook her flaws! My effort counts for nothing! Where is my worth!? Where is my glory!?”

Bloodlust surged through the hall once again.

“I’ll kill you. Then I’ll kill that bitch Orlaith, and finally claim my place among the Twilights!”

“Eeeeh…” Selene dragged the vowel out, her face twisting into a grimace of disgust. “I don’t care about your frustrations or your romantic drama, so shut up.”

Pulling the cloth back over her face with the tips of her fingers, Selene fixed her gaze on Belladona. Her pink eyes gleamed like a predator thirsting for blood.

“It’s up to you to define your own worth. If you care too much about what others think of the way you act, you’ll never discover who you really are.”

A sarcastic laugh echoed.

“You think I don’t know what it means to be second place? I didn’t even have a place to begin with.”

She had a name, but no surname.

That shouldn’t have been a problem. It shouldn’t have mattered.

The mother she never knew didn’t have a surname either.

But she discovered that without one, she couldn’t live.

As an illegitimate child, born from the betrayal of a noble and a servant, even having a childhood at all had been nothing more than a whim of fate.

No one would protect her.

To survive, she needed that second name. A single word of seven letters was the barrier separating her life from death—execution by the very man who should have been her father.

So she fought to claim it.

No one trusted her enough to teach her anything. Instead, they scorned her, mocked her efforts, and cast her aside.

No book was ever placed before her. No knowledge neatly arranged and calculated to foster learning.

So, ignorant of everything that constituted magic, the girl studied in a state where her only motivation was desperation.

She became a mage with a name.

“There is nothing foolish about diligently honing your craft. Effort is what forges experts. Experts are the ones who create change!”

Spinning the stardust brush between her fingers, her hunter’s eyes locked onto the demoness as she slid into a battle stance.

Selene didn’t like that name. But for everyone who hated her, hearing it was painful. And so, declaring it with confidence was one of the greatest pleasures she knew.

“I am Selene Leontar, a Three-Star Mage!”

Neither of them had much mana left.

The space was confined; there was nowhere left to run. The rabbit-eared girl charged forward, and the demon accepted the final dance.

Water splashed across the soaked floor with every step.

Condensing a sphere of red ink in the air, Selene launched it toward Belladona. With deliberate grace, the demoness simply sidestepped the attack, her stinger-shaped dagger whipping forward to intercept her opponent before she closed half the distance.

There was no way to counterattack. Tracing the dagger’s path, Selene rolled and slid across the debris-strewn floor until she was literally at Belladona’s feet.

Flat on her back, her brush spun, firing a sphere of orange ink straight upward.

Belladona tilted her body back, narrowly evading the shot. Using her tail as leverage, she pushed herself forward again. A venom-laced fist shot toward Selene’s skull—but before it could land, the blonde girl bent her knees and sprang upward.

With a single push, Selene spun like a top, her leg once again rising high.

The crimson armor didn’t increase Belladona’s durability; it only made her more dangerous to touch. That meant, with enough resolve, Selene could break through.

The girl’s calf struck the center of the helmet in a vertical arc. A thunderous, explosive crack rang out as the blood-forged helm split in two—and the demoness’s head slammed into the ground.

There wasn’t a single second for either of them to complain about the pain.

Pressing both palms against the floor, Belladona forced her body up through gritted teeth as Selene leapt back, blisters swelling across her leg now scorched with third-degree burns.

The moment they both assumed a battle stance, a sphere of yellow ink and another of green streaked across the hall—shattered apart by a single slash of the dagger.

Sweat poured down their faces in heavy streams.

They clashed again.

Driving her fist straight into the demoness’s chest, Selene felt the skin of her hand vaporize. Yet grinning even wider, she shifted more of her weight forward, digging her fingers in deeper until the crack of ribs rang out.

“Bitch.”

With a grunt as the air was forced from her lungs, Belladona lowered her bladed tail, piercing the rabbit girl’s already wounded leg.

“Easy, cutie.”

Catching the dagger before it could slice her thigh clean open, Selene poured a layer of bubbling ink to cauterize the wound instantly. Her flesh was shredded, but the tendons still held—that was enough.

Pulling her left hand from the demoness’s chest, Selene tossed her brush upward, clamping it between her teeth just in time to block the incoming fist aimed for her neck with her right hand.

A blue sphere of ink flared to life between them, forcing Belladona to hurl herself back. With her helmet destroyed, her white hair whipped wildly, clinging to her drenched armor.

Spitting out the brush and catching it with the hand that wasn’t completely ruined, Selene ripped the cloth from her face and grinned even harder, her eyes trembling with ecstasy.

Two entirely different bloodlusts collided.

She charged, each step sending out shockwaves. Indigo and violet ink gathered around her in colossal spheres.

Belladona understood with a single glance—this was the final assault. A smile curled on her lips and she sprinted forward.

Her shimmering dagger cleaved through the air with a pulse of mana, striking the first sphere and slicing it in half, splattering ink across the soaked floor.

She couldn’t allow another counterattack.

Planting her feet firmly, Belladona hooked her elbow under the rabbit girl’s arm to deflect the incoming punch. Grabbing her blood-slicked forearm with a pale hand, she twisted her body, hurling Selene like a human shield into the path of the last sphere of ink.

Crushing the demi-human’s hand under her heel, Belladona kicked the stardust brush away. With a sharp rise of her legs, she landed a brutal kick to the rabbit girl’s jaw, sending teeth scattering through the air.

“I—I won,” she whispered, stunned.

Planting her boot squarely on the woman’s chest, she pinned her down completely.

Belladona’s breathing was ragged, adrenaline flooding her mind and heightening every sense.

“I won!” she shouted again.

By then, the demoness had forgotten why she was so fixated on killing this woman—her mind was drunk on the thrill alone. What kind of face would that woman make as she died? Belladona could hardly wait to find out.

One more move was all it would take to claim that life. Slowly, she lowered her gaze to meet her prey’s eyes.

But it wasn’t panic or fear she found there.

“To be honest, your idea of diluting poison in your own bloodstream was genius...”

Selene muttered, her mouth so full of blood it was a miracle she hadn’t already choked.

“I envy you...”

Every inch of her body was charred with third-degree burns and venom coursed through her veins, yet that feral smile never left her face.

“Diluting ink sucks.”

Confusion seized Belladona as a mortal chill raced down her spine.

The entire floor shook like a small boat caught in a storm.

The water level, once a thin layer of only a few centimeters, began to rise.

No—it wasn’t just water.

It was multicolored.

“W-What!?” Belladona screamed, her voice stripped of disdain and filled with pure terror.

The ground itself grew uneven. The sudden current made simply standing a battle, delaying the final blow just long enough.

And then, with absolute ecstasy, that voice rang out across the hall.

“[Prismatic Deluge]”

It was chaos incarnate, like a calamity.

Like water swirling down a drain, the massive tide of ink converged into a single point, spiraling in vibrant, living hues.

When her city was attacked, when that creature appeared… after witnessing such a vision that day, it was impossible for her inspiration not to bloom.

With a single surge that shook the great tree holding the castle, the colossal prismatic leviathan’s head burst from the ground. A living painting of terror, it surged toward the hall’s ceiling like a sea serpent.

Like the gaping maw of a shark, rows of jagged teeth opened wide to receive Belladona’s body.

The impact was brutal. The sound of metal being crushed rang out as the beast’s ink-fangs pierced through platinum armor.

Not even a scream escaped from within the creature’s colorful jaws.

Raising her bloodied hand toward the ceiling, Selene clenched her fist tight.

“Don’t underestimate demi-humans, brat.”

A sharp, sickening crack resounded through the hall, followed by a scarlet downpour. A grotesque storm of fragments splattered across every wall, painting them like canvases of her art.

In the best of words, the demon’s body had become something Selene would never dare describe.

“Ah…”

A weary breath slipped from the girl’s lips as the last part of her body still capable of movement collapsed to the floor.

She had fulfilled her task.

And now, like a broken doll, she lay on the ground, her body almost completely destroyed.

Her vision was dimming. Selene didn’t know what kind of poison was laced into the armor, but it was certainly not something she could overcome by sheer willpower.

Her body was numb, and it was easier to count which parts of her skin remained intact than those burned to raw flesh or swollen with blisters.

“Are you alright!?”

Yet, just as her consciousness was about to fade, she heard a voice.

“It’s Lady Selene, isn’t it? Please, stay awake!”

“These injuries… we need to get her out of here, now!”

When her eyes blinked several times, straining to focus, she realized the voices didn’t belong to just one person.

“I told you… to run…” Selene whispered, her words barely slipping past her cracked lips.

Around her, holding her broken body with the utmost care, three girls in maid uniforms wore faces filled with worry.

“We’ll take you to the barracks—there are healers there! Don’t worry, we’ve got you! We’ll purge the poison from your body!”

All at once, the trio of sisters lifted her carefully. With not a trace of horror or revulsion at her injuries, the three girls, with green hair and violet eyes, forced the castle doors open and ran at full speed.

As they carried her, their warmth mingling with hers, tears fell from the rabbit-eared girl’s eyes.

“I’m definitely not happy about a bunch of pretty girls coming to save me, definitely not.”