The scene from the market was scorched into Luna’s mind, a phantom that refused to fade.
Albert and Silvia, walking side by side with such easy familiarity.
The lack of distance between them. Their smiles. That unmistakable intimacy.
Every detail tightened like a vice around Luna’s heart.
Even after she returned to the Student Dormitory and finished her dinner, she remained alone in her room, replaying the sight over and over. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of those two rose to the surface.
(Why... why isn't it me...?)
Luna’s fixation on Albert’s power had mutated into a desperate obsession with the man himself.
She wanted to possess all of him.
The person he favored most, the one he kept closest—that should be her.
She could find no peace after what she had seen today. Her breath felt shallow, her chest constricted, and her heart hammered against her ribs with painful intensity.
That overwhelming magic. That height no one else could hope to reach. The unfathomable abyss hidden behind those cold eyes.
Luna hungered for all of it.
(I have to make Lord Albert recognize me... somehow...)
Just as Albert was enchanted by Ancient Magic, Luna had become enchanted by the existence known as Albert.
Unable to sit still, she fled her room.
Her feet led her naturally toward the central library. She knew that Albert had been practically living there after classes lately. Over the past few days, the sheer frequency and duration of his visits had become staggering.
He was undoubtedly there tonight as well.
(Why has he been so driven lately...?)
Perhaps the secret to his power lay within that newfound fervor.
Albert always occupied the same seat in the library. Luna headed straight for his usual spot without hesitation.
(What am I even going to do when I see him?)
She didn't have an answer.
Would she vent her resentment, demanding to know why he wouldn't make time for her?
—Even though no such relationship existed between them.
Would she beg him to take her back as his apprentice?
—Even though she possessed nothing that would earn his recognition.
Still, Luna pressed on. She knew that if she didn't, she would continue to writhe in the suffocating ache in her chest. There was no guarantee that finding him would soothe the pain, but she couldn't stop herself.
She reached the table where Albert usually sat.
Ordinarily, she would find him there, wearing a look of mild irritation as he tore through one grimoire after another. But today, the seat was empty.
(Has he already left?)
The thought crossed her mind for a moment, but she quickly dismissed it.
Spread across the table in the vast, quiet library were several grimoires and Albert’s personal writing utensils.
(He just stepped away for a moment.)
Her heart thundered, the pulse echoing in her ears. Her palms grew damp with sweat; her throat felt parched.
Her gaze was drawn to the items laid out on the desk. The things Albert was engrossed in—the things that man of overwhelming power was focused on—the research he had been pursuing with such terrifying passion.
(I want to know... I have to know what it is.)
She knew it was wrong to pry into his private work.
—But right now, no one was watching.
Guilt pricked at her conscience, but it was instantly drowned out by a wave of desire. Even if she looked, there was no guarantee she would understand it, let alone gain any power from it. Yet, she craved even a fraction of his perspective. She wanted to glimpse the source of that overwhelming strength.
Luna scanned the room. It was deserted.
Before she knew it, her feet were moving.
Though the distance was short, every step felt like an eternity. Nevertheless, she drew closer until she stood directly before the grimoires.
(This is what Lord Albert sees...)
Luna gazed timidly at the workspace.
Multiple grimoires lay open in the cramped space. Beside them were sheets of paper covered in Albert’s handwriting—notes so dense and frantic the pages were almost entirely black with ink.
(Ah... it’s magnificent...)
To Luna, it was a mountain of treasure.
As she scanned the desk, her eyes—and her very consciousness—were suddenly pulled toward one specific volume.
It was the grimoire placed directly in front of Albert’s chair, clearly the one he had been reading most recently. At first glance, it didn't look like anything special. It seemed like any other common magical text.
And yet, it felt as though the book were calling out to her. Just looking at it made her feel like her soul was being vacuumed into the pages.
(This is...?)
Unable to resist the temptation, Luna reached out. The moment her fingers brushed the cover, she lost all restraint.
She began flipping through the pages, her focus narrowing until the rest of the world vanished. Her mind was filled with the grimoire. Information began pouring into her brain at a staggering, violent speed.
(This isn't... a normal grimoire.)
The text on the surface was mundane, but her intuition told her there was something hidden beneath the words.
She couldn't grasp the specifics, but she could feel a clear distinction between the Surface Content and the Hidden Content.
(What is this...?)
Then, the letters began to move.
(—!)
No, that wasn't right. The letters weren't moving; her vision was distorting. Her entire surroundings began to warp and bend. The library bookshelves melted like wax, the lamplight stretched into thin ribbons, and the floor beneath her feet undulated like a dark sea.
Luna’s world dissolved as the boundary between reality and the beyond grew dangerously thin.
(Eh...?)
The transformation was so rapid she didn't have time to close the book. In truth, even if she had the time, she likely wouldn't have tried.
She was already under its spell.
Enchanted by the power vibrating within the grimoire.
Suddenly, the floor vanished beneath her feet.
(—!?)
In a heartbeat, the world was rewritten.
The warm, familiar atmosphere of the central library was gone, replaced by a cold, desolate vista.
She was in a cramped, oppressive space made of rough-hewn stone. Torches lined the walls, their flickering orange flames casting long, grotesque shadows.
As Luna looked around the room, her breath hitched.
Thick chains dangled from the ceiling. At the edge of the room sat a wooden chair equipped with iron shackles, stained with dark, dried blood. There were crosses for binding victims, iron head-vices designed to crush skulls, and blood-crusted pliers and hammers scattered across the floor.
A Torture Chamber.
A wave of icy terror washed over her.
(Wait, what’s happening? How did I get here?)
She had been in the grand library just a moment ago. Where was this? Was it a hallucination? A waking nightmare?
Then, she heard it.
The rhythmic clack... clack... of footsteps echoing through the silence.
She turned toward the sound. It was coming from a dark corridor leading into the room. From the shadows where the torchlight couldn't reach, someone was approaching.
Clack... clack...
"I shall offer a prayer for the wretched lamb who has strayed here without qualification. May your soul find its blessing in the life to come."
From out of the darkness, the figure revealed itself.