**Episode 15**
Just as Sharie’s breath began to falter—panting like a frightened animal on the verge of losing consciousness—Caissa abruptly pulled away.
His movements were quick, even urgent.
“This is… as far as I can go,” he murmured, his tone low and velvety as always, though it sounded almost strained.
Rising to his feet, Caissa adjusted his disheveled clothes with practiced composure.
“I have some matters to attend to. Please, rest for now.”
At this hour of the night? What sort of matters could possibly call for his attention?
Sharie wanted to ask, to stop him somehow—but she didn’t have the strength.
Gasping for air, she collapsed onto the bed like a waterlogged rag.
—
She couldn’t quite recall how she’d fallen asleep—or how she’d managed to get up in the morning, share a meal with Caissa, and then make her way to her lessons.
“Lady Sharie.”
Perhaps she hadn’t slept well. Her head felt thick with fog.
“Lady Sharie!”
A sharp voice pierced through the haze, snapping her back to the present.
Annette was looking at her with an expression that bordered on disbelief.
“May I ask what on earth you were thinking about during class?”
Sharie flushed. There was no way she could tell the truth.
“S-Sorry. I’m terribly sorry…”
It was a rare and precious opportunity to receive this education. And yet she’d spent the precious lesson daydreaming. What a waste.
She hung her head low, nearly smashing her forehead against the desk.
Seeing that, Annette’s stern gaze softened unexpectedly.
“You must’ve had a rough night. I understand.”
She had no idea what Annette imagined when she said “rough night,” but her response was far more generous than expected.
“But there won’t be a second warning. Now then, let’s resume.”
Straightening her posture, Sharie forced herself to refocus.
Annette began explaining Sharie’s unusual constitution and how her training would be adapted accordingly.
Much of it echoed what Sharie had overheard in Edwin’s conversation days earlier—though it was clear Annette had made a conscious effort to avoid terms that might frame Sharie in terms of “utility.”
Sharie watched her closely.
Annette didn’t seem to suspect that her earlier conversation had been overheard.
“While all aspects are important, I believe it would be best to prioritize developing your natural talents. Lady Sharie, you have a rather exceptional affinity. Especially now, given…” Annette hesitated before revealing sensitive information.
“There have been frequent cases of monsters breaching residential zones as of late.”
Monsters existed everywhere—but in Barhad, they were a particularly troublesome plague.
Due to the region’s harsh climate, the serpent clans’ agricultural production was extremely limited.
“At present, we can still source grain from the Sephiros Plains, but it’s not enough to supply the entire territory.”
Barhad had traditionally depended heavily on imported food.
In fact, Annette had spent the past few years traveling across the continent to find viable methods for domestic production.
But no amount of research had been able to overcome the curse of infertile soil.
“If we could at least contain the monsters, things would be far easier.”
The starving beasts regularly attacked rural villages, stealing food and sometimes even devouring the inhabitants.
No matter how physically gifted a person might be, it was impossible to fend off swarms of monsters alone.
Worse still, there were times when intelligent monsters led coordinated assaults, increasing the devastation exponentially.
In such cases, Caissa himself had to lead the subjugation forces.
“It’s quite different from Rahol,” Sharie said quietly, watching Annette’s expression.
In Rahol, the soldiers were always the first to respond in times of crisis. Her grandfather, the head of the clan, usually refrained from taking action himself.
“Monster subjugation is the duty of the clan head,” Annette replied firmly.
The strongest must lead from the front. Power and authority must be accompanied by responsibility.
To the serpent people, the idea of Caissa being defeated by anyone was simply unthinkable.
He was someone who stood apart—even from death.
But Annette’s concern wasn’t for Caissa’s safety.
“Lady Sharie, you must also learn how to protect yourself in the event of an emergency.”
Her real worry was Sharie.
Among the serpent clan, even five-year-olds could be seen wielding weapons and hunting wild boars in the snowfields.
And then there was this young rabbit girl before her.
*Just look at those tiny teeth—no fangs to speak of.*
She had expected a disparity in physical condition, of course, but seeing it with her own eyes was still a shock.
*She probably couldn’t chew through a dandelion stem, let alone bring down a boar.*
Annette had spent the entirety of the war holed up in a command post. She had little direct experience dealing with rabbitfolk.
Had they been at the Guild Headquarters, perhaps she could’ve used various magic tools to enhance Sharie’s physical abilities…
“Um, Annette?”
Sharie’s trembling voice cut through her thoughts, sensing the way Annette was inspecting her as though she were a broken mechanism.
Annette blinked, then quickly wiped the intensity from her expression and returned to her usual composure.
“Of course, it’s highly unlikely the palace will be attacked. But it never hurts to be prepared.”
The royal palace was the heart of Barhad—impenetrable and secure.
Guards rotated in shifts from dawn to dusk, never leaving the walls unmanned. For an enemy to infiltrate, they’d have to bypass those soldiers *and* break through the fifteen-meter-thick granite wall enclosing the stronghold.
In all of history, no invader had ever breached the fortress.
So there was little real need to worry.
“I understand,” Sharie nodded earnestly. “I’ll do my best.”
Seeing her student so motivated, Annette transitioned into the core of the lesson.
“Lady Sharie, you exhibit a remarkable affinity with nature. If you’re going to pursue magic, I suggest beginning with natural magic rather than artificial constructs.”
She picked up a piece of chalk.
Each lesson, servants would wheel in a large blackboard for her lectures. Today was no different.
She drew a large circle at the center of the board.
“Natural magic typically falls into four major categories: water, fire, earth, and air.”
Four smaller circles branched from the center, each labeled with one of the elements.
“In reality, the attributes are far more complex, but these are the primary classifications used in academic settings. It’s a framework to help us understand the bigger picture.”
Given how Sharie had sprouted a seedling before, she seemed to align best with earth magic.
“All living things are born with life force. Magic draws out and amplifies that energy. Earth magic, in particular, is deeply tied to regeneration.”
Which made it especially useful for healing.
Still, any magic attribute could be shaped in endless ways depending on application.
Annette believed in her pupil’s potential.
“I have a question.”
Sharie had her nose buried in her parchment, furiously taking notes, but now she hesitantly raised her hand.
“What’s the difference between a mage’s healing magic and a priest’s divine power?”
“That’s an excellent question.”
Not bad at all—Annette was impressed. To make that conceptual leap from a basic introduction?
As she answered the question, she made a mental note: she would have to contact the Mage’s Association soon.
*Even if I’m the continent’s most renowned scholar, I’m no specialist in magic. She’ll need a proper tutor.*
The association’s mages had a reputation for being notoriously eccentric, but at least their credentials were impeccable.
It was safer than inviting an unverified outsider into the clan.
“My, is it that time already?”
Checking her pocket watch, Annette set her quill aside.
She poured herself a cup of tea, soothing her dry throat, and began stacking books on the desk.
“This is an herbology compendium. And this one covers the magical theory I explained just now.”
Those books looked more like bricks than textbooks—heavy, hardbound tomes piled like a small fortress.
“This one’s a primer on magic formulas, ranging from beginner to advanced levels. It even includes illustrations for easier comprehension, so…”
Sharie’s wide eyes filled with growing dread as the pile of study materials climbed higher and higher.
“And please be sure to read this one as well.”
The final book Annette placed on the desk looked entirely different from the others.
Sharie read the title aloud.
“*Theoretical Foundations of Sexual Education*…?”
At once, Annette’s expression hardened like chiseled stone.
“…”
“…”
A heavy silence fell between them.
Just as Sharie opened her mouth to ask if perhaps the book had been brought by mistake, Annette gave a curt, deliberate cough.
