“How did you know about the loops?”
In the Wintersin Empire, where seasons had a dramatic fir for the ironic, teetering on the edge of summer like a novi a tightrope.
Here, the weather gods seemed to have a twisted sense of humifting chilly showers and a gloom that g more stubbornly than an unwanted party guest.
The sun, apparently shy this time of year, peeked through the sullen clouds like a relut child at a dance recital.
On this particurly dreary day, the church, a brooding behemoth of stone and stained gss, stood as a silent wito the damp whimsy of the season.
Its interior, a haven from the persistent drizzle, murmured with the echoes of a thousand fessions.
Inside, Burn and Man found themselves seated fortably close. The air between them had the kind of tension that could make even the most devout atheist say a little prayer.
The only light was a quivering dle, flickering as if it was nervous about the versation to e, casting long shadows that danced a slow, macabre waltz across the cold, stone floor.
Rain tapped a morose rhythm against the stained-gss windows, the droplets rag each other down the panes like tears on the face of the sky.
“Iher loops, you were unaware of it all. So what ged this time around?"
“Courtesy of the vampires. Spending a couple of decades trainiurned out to be a wise decision," Momo replied.
Mind reading, huh?
“What is the dition of that annoying spell…?” Burn muttered.
“Do you want to know?” the woman smiled softly at him.
Momo unched into an expnation of the spell, her voice a soothing melody that threateo turn the versation into a bedtime story.
Given the somber pitter-patter of rain outside, perfect for a nap, Burn half-expected to find himself drooling on the chair by the time she finished.
"Finners, you know, the 1st-3rd circle initiates," she began, her firag invisible patterns in the air as if sketg the circles herself.
"They must be terribly polite: knowing the person’s name, getting their permission—almost like asking, 'May I please cast a spell on you?' They also o touch the target, trate, and shout the spell out loud.”
Burn was wrong. She looked and sounded beautiful, he wouldn’t be lulled to sleep.
“Oh, and they only juggle oarget at a time. Handy if you're into personalized service, like magical er support for the mind."
Her lips curled into a smile that could only be described as impishly charming.
"Moving up to the 4th-6th circles, it gets a bit more... invasive. No need for pleasantries or permissions. They just o know who they're dealing with and maouch—long or intimate enough to make it t.”
“It's less 'May I?' and more 'I just did.' And they multitask, handling more thaarget. Think of it as upgrading from solo performao dug an orchestra.”
And she had the same sense of humor as him.
She leaned closer, her expression one of mock-seriousness as if sharing a juicy secret. "Now, for the grandmasters, 7th-9th circles, they're basically almost like Vd.”
Bad.
Burn found himself squinting in disdain, as if by narrowing his eyes he could somehow lessen the overwhelming impact of her image.
“o know names, no need for toug—though it does help. They hypnotize, brainwash, mind trol... It’s like they have an unlimited subscription to every brain in the viity."
"And Vd," she cluded with a dazzling smile, "well, he's in a league of his own. He could probably sell ice to snowmen or vihe moon it’s made of cheese."
“So, you’re around 4th-6th circles mastery of the spell?” Burn asked.
“I’m a little less than that,” Momo answered. “I still need a little permission from you. Didn’t you give it to me,” she paused, her lips glistening in the dark room from the previous kiss, “unsciously?”
What was she, a temptress?
“Well, it saves time. I don’t have to expihing to you,” Burn said. “And was it fun?”
The two looked into each others’ eyes, deep, yet coldly.
“Looking into someone’s mind everyday while also sug his Forergy?”
The woman closed her eyes, and it suddenly felt as though all the blue in the world had disappeared. The sky outside darkened further, and no warm light seemed able to pee the deepening gloom.
“It wasn’t fun,” she answered.
Burn saw her slowly open her eyes again.
“But aren’t you gd to see your worst enemy able to uand your point of view?” the woman smiled softly. “You should also be gd that I’m a rational and siderate type of person.”
Even to her worst enemy.
Just as the versation was heating up, a cold gust of wind, clearly with nard for personal space, barged into the chamber from the cheerless world outside.
With the subtlety of an uninvited guest, it ed its icy fingers around everything, seemingly just for the thrill of causing disfort.
Momo, in her current state as delicate as a blossom in a storm, was an immediate victim to this chilly intrusion.
“Mmh…”
Looking at how the tip of her fingers unsciously hooked arouhick garment in a pose to shield herself, her body, unprepared for such audacity from the weather, shivered—a silent, elegant protest against the impolite cold…
Her skin, which had held the soft glow of dlelight moments before, surreo the pallor of a tragic heroine in the climax of a dark romanovel.
As she ed her arms around herself, one might have mistaken her for a fragile statue, momentarily bewildered by the sudden ge from warm discourse to cold reality.
Burn somewhat uood why she didn’t kill him.
She was simply… weak.
Her eyeshes fluttered.
The moment Burn’s thought nded on that clusion, it almost seemed like she heard the echo of it. Burn looked at her in suspi and saw her smile slowly bloomed.
“How?” he asked, demanding to know.
“Ah,” she chuckled. “I hadn’t mentiohe duration of the spell.”
“You’re able to extend the duration?”
“If I mao pnt my Vision energy in you, yes.”
But it also meant… that she khat he was attracted to her the whole time.
“Pffft—” Momo had the same sense of humor as him.
GRASP!
“HMPH!”
Burn’s angry veins popped as he grasped the woman’s beautiful face with his hand. For the most part, he was irritated at how distrag her beauty was. But now, he had more reason to hate it.
“But it’s not my fault that I’m pretty—no! It’s your fault to find me pretty!” she retorted.
“Fix that useless feature your face has. Make you look ugly to me and we’ll talk afterwards.”
“Why? Do you find it difficult to trate? Pa-the-tic~”
This bloody sense of humor!
“Let’s leave the churorrow, Your Majesty.”
Burn raised his eyebrows. He lifted his palm from her face, seeing her disheveled bangs and red cheeks appeared from behind his irritated little squeeze.
“I want to meet my disciple.”
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