After waking up the next morning, Lann sat up in bed.

His face, even though still showing signs of just waking, did not detract from his overall aura, tinged with a bit of doubt.

Was I dreaming last night?

Lann was not only doubting himself but also the female warlock in front of him, who was sitting at the dressing table, doing her makeup.

Margaret was simply draped in a silk nightgown, the smooth fabric with a draping sensation outlined her body’s curves, revealing and concealing.

Just like a description in the art of sculpture: a semi-nude statue is more artistic than a full-body one.

High-end perfume and creams filled the room with a long-lasting and elegant fragrance.

Lann knew her well; she always used the best. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Margaret wasn’t shy about doing her makeup in front of Lann. This wasn’t laziness after getting used to each other.

It was due to her confidence in herself.

Already beautiful and enticing, the process of applying makeup made her even more so.

She liked having her lover appreciate this process beside her, and she would also admire him through the reflection in the mirror at this time.

Being able to appreciate each other with a lover is something that brings psychological satisfaction and happiness.

"I changed my lipstick, how does it look?"

Margaret met Lann’s gaze through the mirror.

The demon hunter speaks the truth, he loves telling the truth.

"Great. You suit a bold and vibrant makeup, like a rose blooming unrestrainedly."

"Ha, you have quite the sweet tongue. You should be playing the lute and singing in a tavern," Margaret in the mirror laughed, as if teasing.

Her soft tongue slipped out, licking her plump lips.

Then, Margaret started to tidy her radiant golden hair and put on her favorite gold jewelry.

This kind of gaudy jewelry on her only added to her allure.

"You can stop with the sweet talk. How about the proposal I made last night? Any thoughts?"

Margaret spoke while fixing her hair in the mirror.

"Wait..." Lann had a confused look on his face, as if unable to recall anything from the night before. "What?"

Of course, Mentos wouldn’t be fooled by the main act’s performance.

The biochemical brain first displayed a "?" on the retina.

Then: ’Likes to tell the truth’?

Lann’s expression remained unchanged, treating the words in front of him as nonexistent, showing a high level of acting skill.

"Don’t play dumb." Margaret easily saw through her young boyfriend’s act.

Well, ’young’ in terms of age, not quite in terms of physique and size...

"You were quite sober when I spoke, I remember it clearly."

"Don’t be shy, boy."

Margaret said, glancing at her eyeshadow in the mirror.

"Triss looks great, doesn’t she?"

"..." Lann scratched his chin, feeling that something was off with Margaret today. "I’ll go for some morning exercise first."

The demon hunter vaguely felt overwhelmed.

With extreme speed, he put on casual clothes and left the principal’s bedroom with the Lady of the Lake’s Sword.

After Lann left, Margaret put down her eyeliner.

She suddenly ruffled her freshly styled golden hair in frustration, mumbling incessantly.

"Ah!!! So annoying! So annoying!"

"There are already a bunch of bitches eyeing him! Even at the Convergence of Spheres over there! Everywhere!"

"Even gods! To hell with it! Bitches! They’re all bitches!"

The golden hair was tousled, like a defeated golden retriever.

But after her tantrum, Margaret took a deep breath and calmed her mood.

No choice, just like Tishaya’s analysis last night.

She couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving Lann, just the mere possibility filled her with fear.

So she had to think of every possible way to keep Lann’s heart tied here.

At least not let the bitches at the Convergence of Spheres take him away!

To do this, she even planned to drive a tiger to swallow the wolves, bringing in some ’reinforcements,’ to give those bitches a share of the spoils.

After a bout of frenzy over her lover’s desirability, Margaret could only tidy her hair again and open the Thousand-Mile Telescope in the room for a communication with someone far away.

Meanwhile, Lann, who had slipped out under Margaret’s strange remarks, ascended the stairway.

The top level of Airetusa is the Gastang Palace, where the highest council meetings of wizards are held.

This palace and the famous Elven Ancient Teleportation Gate, Tol Laura, also known as Seagull Tower, were on a giant reef.

The entire construction of Airetusa is on a large reef that split from a continent, and this large reef is divided vertically into two pieces, one large and one small.

This split but not completely separated island is collectively called Sandy Island.

The castle of Airetusa spans these two large reefs.

Most of the classrooms, dormitories, and Luoxia Palace are on the larger but lower piece.

The Gastang Palace and Seagull Tower are located on a slightly smaller but taller rocky islet.

The two architectural complexes are connected by a large hanging stone bridge.

The bridge is wide enough to accommodate four or five carriages in parallel, and its surface is composed of large, neat stone slabs arranged like a chessboard in black and white squares.

This increases the construction cost of the entire bridge but also adds more charm from the Magic Academy.

Originally, this bridge was long overdue for repair, with salty sea winds corroding it, causing rocks to fall and break.

They even had to use illusion techniques to barely cover up the dilapidated appearance of the bridge, maintaining the dignity of Airetusa.

And those who pass through must step on the black squares to ensure they won’t fall over a hundred meters into the sea or onto the rocks, turning into scattered fish food.

After all, the cost of repairing such structures is exceedingly high, even requiring involvement from mages.

And the mage’s labor costs are understandably exorbitant.

But after Lann introduced the technology of Valerian Steel, the academy, with cash flow unprecedentedly abundant, decided to commence repairs before Tishaya took up her position at the Talent and Skill Association.

They removed the illusions and started to genuinely repair the bridge.

Upon returning, Lann discovered that the bridge had been completely restored.

Usually, no one visits the bridge to reach the buildings on the other islet.

Thus, Lann chose this place, where he could open up more freely, as his morning exercise spot.

Under Lann’s control, his routine swordsmanship practice wouldn’t cause much disturbance.

But after warming up, with the lace collar on his shirt and molten silver hair fluttering in the sea breeze,

he slowly raised his left hand.

A surge of heat, complying with his will, gathered from within his body, eventually igniting with a ’bang’ two centimeters above the void of his left palm.

It was a flame.

A curse-fire flame.

Since acquiring the curse spell catalyst from the World of Fire, this was Lann’s first genuine research on it.

The flame burned self-sufficiently in the sea breeze, seemingly completely unaffected by the external environment.

Lann could feel the heat in his palm; however, when he brought the curse fire close to other objects, the flame couldn’t ignite them.

It seemed that, apart from the holder, the heat was like an illusion.

Curse fire is a spellcasting catalyst; it appears that only when casting a curse can its power be revealed externally.

At other times, it can be considered just a fire trick.

Lann’s curse teacher—Conicus of the Great Swamp—gave him the Great Swamp Spellbook before the demon hunter left.

However, it’s undeniably the foundational textbook for curse masters.

It contains few spells, most focusing on shaping the flame and methods to attack outward.

Just as Conicus warned his apprentice who hadn’t been with him long: curses are the worship of fire.

In the Magic Middle Ages, flames were merely a manifestation of magic, and no one would specifically create a ’Flame Magic Department’ or anything like that.

But in the World of Fire, where the fundamental order of the entire world relies on the burn of the primordial flame for maintenance,

the status of flame stands apart.

Curses, born from this worship of flame, actually stand alongside magic and miracles, forming three casting systems.

[Fireball], [Great Fireball], [Jet Flame]...

The initiation of curse masters begins here.

"Phew!"

As Lann’s eyes slightly narrowed, under his focused mental control, the flame floating above his left palm swelled as if exploding!

In less than a second, the candle-like flame had expanded to the size of a bowl.

And the curse fire, which originally had no external power, also changed due to the spellcasting.

The air around the fireball was visibly distorted by the heat, as the heat changed the air’s refractive index.

The curse flame possessed a genuinely high temperature.

"Hmm~"

Lann initially wanted to keep this [Fireball] in his hand, to further observe its internal structure with his [Spiritual Vision].

But spellcasting has its process; when skill isn’t sufficient, the caster actually has little ability to manipulate the spell itself.

Sensing the moment when the [Fireball] was about to lose control, Lann swung his left hand forward.

In a gesture like throwing, he cast the fireball towards the sea below the bridge.

The fireball traced a parabolic path, not extinguished by the strong sea winds between the islets.

Instead, it fell over a hundred-meter drop, crashing onto the rocky base of Sandy Island.

The fireball finally caused a small explosion, a head-sized piece of rock near the burst point was blown into the sea with foamy waves.

The sound of the explosion spread to the surroundings, and by the time it reached Lann’s ears, it was as faint as a pebble landing.

"Collecting data..."

Mentos provided analytical assistance throughout Lann’s spell experiment.

At this time, it simulated the possible effects of the curse fireball on human injuries—

A soldier fully clad in Niflgaardian armor, after contacting the fireball with the sturdiest, thickest chest armor, was burned to charred black.

Apart from the scorched impact point, the explosion also shattered his limbs.

The power is not much different from an ordinary warlock’s fireball technique.