Note: The Kararagi arc still hasn't started yet, I'm on a vacation.
This is just a standalone chapter I finished writing — I don't like leaving drafts half-done. Since this part doesn't spoil anything, I figured it's fine to upload it.
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A silver-haired elf stood before a tall mirror, holding a black one-piece mini-dress, with orange flower decorations against her frame. Her long, silken hair shimmered faintly under the soft glow of the room's crystal lamp, strands glinting like moonlight on snow. Her amethyst eyes — touched with a faint bluish hue — wavered between the reflection and the neatly folded clothes in the wardrobe beside her.
After a pause, she tilted her head slightly, trying to break the silence."Hey, Echidna-San… you really like the color black, don't you?"
Echidna didn't look up from her book. Her tone was calm, but sharp enough to cut the air."Do you have a problem with that?"
The elf blinked, startled. "Ah—no, not at all! It was just… something I noticed."
Her words drifted into the still air, unanswered.Silence returned, thick and uncomfortable.
Across the room, Echidna sat by the window, legs crossed, her posture graceful yet distant. The witch's barely-exposed skin was pale — not merely white, but the pure, cold white of untouched porcelain. Her black eyes gleamed with a deep, unsettling intelligence, and her white hair, long and straight, cascaded like a curtain of snow down her back.
Beside Cepheus, she was perhaps the most beautiful person the girl had ever seen.
Without realizing it, the girl spoke her thoughts aloud."Your hair… it's really pretty."
Echidna's hands stilled. She lowered her book just enough for their gazes to meet.Her eyes, sharp and unreadable, felt almost predatory."It hasn't been long since we met," she said coolly. "But I didn't imagine sarcasm was part of your character."
"Sarcasm?" the girl repeated, blinking in confusion.
Echidna shut her book with a quiet thud. "This color—" she lifted a strand of her own hair between two pale fingers "—isn't pretty. It's pale. Empty. It's the color of something that has been drained of life."
The girl puffed her cheeks in protest, her ears twitching slightly. "That's not true at all! I really think your hair is beautiful… and it suits you perfectly."
Echidna's lips twitched — a ghost of a smile, gone as quickly as it came.
"Silver and white," Echidna murmured, almost to herself. "Two sides of the same void… yet yours still shines."
Before the girl could respond, the door creaked open.
A young woman stepped inside, her sky-blue eyes so bright and clear they seemed almost translucent. Her golden hair, tied into a messy ponytail, caught the light as she placed her hands on her hips.
"Can you stop being mean to her already?" she said, her voice carrying both warmth and exasperation. "She was honestly giving you a compliment!"
"Minerva-San!" the half-elf exclaimed, visibly relieved.
Minerva waved a hand dismissively, an angry expression tugging at her lips. "Just Minerva is fine! We're the same age, after all."
Echidna exhaled quietly, resting her chin against the back of her hand as her black eyes lifted toward the newcomer. "So you were here, Minerva…"
Minerva's expression shifted into a glare as she pointed accusingly at the witch. "You! You'd better fix that attitude of yours before all of this is over!"
Echidna tilted her head, unfazed by the goddess's tone. A faint, almost amused smile touched her lips."This is quite a surprise…" she said softly, closing her book with a quiet snap. "I was under the impression you wanted no part in this conflict—especially with that man, Reid, involved."
Her words carried a knowing chill.
The world outside their quiet room had grown restless.Whispers of witches running rampant spread like wildfire—nations tightening their grip, kingdoms issuing bounties for their capture, dead or alive. Fear was beginning to outweigh reason.
Even the Lion King, Farsale Lugunica, had come to Echidna seeking answers for the witches' recent uproar. She had turned him away without hesitation.After all, to her, there was nothing "sudden" about this. Witches were beings who lived by their essence—by the indulgence of their desires. To be surprised by chaos was, to Echidna, profoundly naive.
Minerva's gaze drifted to the wide window beside them, the golden sunlight bleeding through the glass. Outside, four figures stood beneath the open sky.
A colossal dragon gleamed in the light—its scales pale blue, like frozen sapphire.
Beside it stood a young man with golden hair and crimson eyes, a carefree smile plastered on his face, carrying himself as though the world's weight meant nothing to him.
Next to him was a man with fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes, his crimson coat worn loosely over one shoulder, the other side left bare to the wind—Reid Astrea.
And finally, there was a fourth figure—unfamiliar. A human with jet-black hair and dark, fathomless eyes that seemed to swallow the light around him.
Minerva exhaled softly, her expression darkening. "That is that," she murmured. "And this is this. The situation's changed. It's no longer just about us being witches."
Her tone was uncharacteristically grave.
Minerva's lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, he referred to Reid Astrea—the man she despised most in the world.
Reid was a monster in human skin: vulgar, reckless, and utterly unrestrained. He was the enemy of all women, a walking disaster who treated battle like a game. His list of feats was absurd—slaying a hundred dragons in one night, earning six thousand consecutive victories in the gladiatorial arena of Ginunhive, and crossing blades with demons, spirits, and men alike without hesitation or remorse.
Minerva, by contrast, abhorred violence. The Witch of Wrath who healed the wounded with her punches—she loathed fighting more than anything. Yet here she was, dragged into another storm, side by side with the man she could barely stand to look at.
Even in the past, Reid attempted to fondle her breasts in many occasions, which made their relationship even more strained.
Echidna's eyes gleamed faintly with amusement. "Speak for yourself, Minerva. I'm merely following along because I find this situation… intriguing. This is nothing more than me fulfilling my nature as the Witch of Greed—satisfying my curiosity."
"Don't change the topic!" Minerva shouted, stomping her foot. "And shouldn't you get ready already?! You're still reading that book—"
Echidna's gaze lifted from the page, sharp and cold, silencing her instantly.
Minerva swallowed hard. "W–What?"
Closing the book, Echidna stood in one fluid motion, her white hair cascading like silk. "I'm going to check on Beatrice," she said simply.
"Oi! Don't you dare just run awa—"
But before Minerva could finish, the witch vanished—her form flickering like a mirage, leaving behind only a faint afterimage and a whisper of cold air.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then Minerva stomped on the ground, her voice echoing through the marble hall. "That little jerk!"
The entire castle trembled, chandeliers swaying violently from the force of her tantrum.
"Echidna-San… she clearly seems to hate me."
The silver-haired girl's shoulders drooped slightly, her tone carrying both confusion and quiet hurt.
Minerva turned toward her, exhaling a heavy sigh before forcing a small, reassuring smile. "Didn't I tell you to drop the formality? There's no need for San."
She crossed her arms, tapping her foot as if to chase away her own uncertainty. "And that's not true! Probably… I think she's just—confused. We all are. But I would never come to hate you, you hear me?"
Her words were meant to comfort, but even she didn't sound entirely convinced. The tension hanging in the air was too heavy for certainty.
Minerva's expression softened as she leaned back against the nearest pillar, gazing out the tall arched window. "Are you sure about bringing that guy along? It's going to be really dangerous."
She didn't need to say who she meant. The image of him — that black-haired human Echidna had vouched for — lingered at the back of her mind like a shadow she couldn't quite define.
Farsale, on the other hand, she understood. Lavish, loud, reckless—he was the kind of man who thrived anywhere, even in chaos. And with the divine pact he'd made with Volcanica, he would manage, one way or another.
Reid, though… Minerva's lips tightened at the thought. Despite how much his very existence irritated her, she couldn't deny the truth: he was the strongest among them. There was simply no moving forward without him.
But that other one… the human the girl insisted on bringing. According to her, he was "nothing but an ordinary man."
Minerva's brows furrowed. Ordinary men didn't stand beside witches, dragons and Reid.
Still, the silver-haired girl smiled — small but unwavering. "Of course! I'm the one who brought Flugel here, so I'll take responsibility."
Her tone was gentle yet firm, her amethyst eyes shining with quiet determination.
Minerva stared at her for a moment before chuckling softly. "You really are impossible, Satella…" She shook her head, a tired smile tugging at her lips. "I can never win against you."
Satella pressed a hand to her chest, her expression turning slightly troubled. "I'm sorry… for all the trouble I've caused."
"Come on," Minerva said with a wave of her hand, "it's not a big deal."
Then her smile turned more genuine, her eyes softening. "Besides… it's not like it's the first time we've had to save the world."