The gates of Endrio Magic Academy creaked open beneath an unnaturally overcast sky. The wind whispered, carrying the scent of aged iron and something sweet—like flesh beginning to rot.
The academy's gates were magnificent. Two thirty-meter marble towers flanked the entrance, adorned with dragon carvings whose eyes were made of massive rubies. The main gate, forged from black iron plated with gold, slowly swung open with a thunderous groan, as if warning every visitor of the power hidden within.
Above the gate, the words "Endrio Magus Academia" glowed with a silvery light, engraved on a floating metal slab unsupported by any structure. Statues of the academy's founders—legendary sorcerers from the golden age—lined the entrance path, but their crystal eyes seemed to follow every step of those who passed.
Warlet Von Crimson stepped inside with small, silent footsteps, her black boots making no sound on the carved stone. She wore a simple dark red dress, her blonde hair loosely braided with a faded ribbon.
She looked ordinary.
Too ordinary. Like a mere child.
As Warlet entered the academy grounds, a student in a silver robe—the mark of a young noble—sneered at her. "Hey, kid! This isn't a playground!"
Warlet stopped. Her head tilted slowly, like a bird observing an insect before tearing it apart.
"You said... kid?" Her voice was soft, almost innocent.
The student laughed. "Yeah, you! Did your parents get lost? Or—"
He strode toward Warlet, stopping right in front of her. His gaze was condescending. He wasn't alone—several other students, all second-years at the academy, stood behind him. They followed him because he was the son of a prominent noble.
"You wanna play with me, little girl?" He patted Warlet's head with his left hand, then gripped it tightly. "I hate the way you're looking at me."
Warlet grabbed his wrist. "I hate your attitude even more, brat. You're disgusting."
The boy's face twisted in anger, but before he could speak—
CRACK!
His leg snapped backward with a sound like dry twigs underfoot. He screamed in terror, collapsing to the ground, his face paling as he stared at his now-bent shin, twisted like a broken toy.
Tears streamed down his face. The pain was unbearable. The other students backed away, confused and terrified.
"Oops," Warlet blinked. "Your leg looks cuter now."
She crouched down, yanking the boy's hair before slamming his head into the floor—thud, thud, thud—until blood pooled beneath him.
She tilted her head innocently. "Why aren't you fighting back?" she taunted.
The boy could only scream in agony, completely helpless. The other students exchanged glances, none daring to intervene.
The commotion drew attention. More students gathered, some already raising their wands. The noble boy's followers regained a sliver of confidence.
"What's going on here?!" shouted an instructor, his eyes burning with fury.
Warlet smiled. "He fell."
She raised a finger—casually, like a child pointing at a butterfly.
"How about the rest of you try it too?"
CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!
A dozen legs snapped simultaneously. Screams filled the academy courtyard. Some students vomited from the pain, others fainted at the sight of their bones jutting through skin.
The crowd grew larger. The instructor who had just arrived froze, swallowing hard. His hands trembled.
Warlet walked among them, her steps light as if strolling through a garden. "You should be careful," she whispered. "The floor here... is slippery."
As she raised her hand again—ready to twist more than just legs—someone suddenly shouted.
"Lady Warlet! Please!"
Sorbet sprinted forward and dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the ground. "They didn't know! They're fools! I beg you—spare their lives!"
Silence.
Warlet stared at him, her crimson eyes blinking slowly. "Oh, Sorbet," she said. "I almost forgot... You invited me here. Where's my welcome? This?"
She glanced at the writhing victims. "Look. They started it."
Sorbet shuddered. "They'll be punished! But... please. The academy still needs them. Spare them, I beg you! I'll do anything."
"Hmm." Warlet tapped her chin, pretending to think. Then she nodded cheerfully. "Alright! Let's play a little game!"
She crouched beside the first boy who had mocked her—he was barely conscious, his face drenched in tears.
"If you can fix your legs before sunset," Warlet whispered, "I'll let you and the others live. It's all up to you."
She stood and turned to Sorbet. "Now, show me my room. I want to see a comfortable bed... or did you prepare a cage for me?"
"No, my lady. I would never. I know my place," Sorbet answered.
He had prepared the most luxurious room for Warlet—even more spacious and lavish than the headmaster's quarters. He had spent his family's fortune to ensure it met her standards.
"I'm sure you'll like it," Sorbet said confidently.
Behind them, screams and sobs still echoed.
But Warlet had already forgotten them—like a child bored with a new toy.
"I'm looking forward to it. If it doesn't meet my expectations, you'll give me one of your fingers as compensation," Warlet said.
Sorbet swallowed hard. He knew his words had just trapped him. "...Understood."
***
The area near the academy's entrance was in chaos. Teachers, instructors, and students crowded around, desperately trying to heal those whose legs had been shattered. The air was thick with pained groans and the metallic scent of blood.
"Who was that little girl?" one instructor whispered to another, his eyes darting toward the now-empty path where Warlet had stood moments before. To him, she had appeared completely ordinary - just a child in a simple dress. Yet Sorbet, a respected figure, had bowed to her with fearful reverence.
"I don't know who she is," answered the instructor who had witnessed everything, his voice trembling. "But that... thing is a monster. She did this with just a flick of her finger."
"Don't be absurd," the first instructor scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. His face twisted in disbelief. "A girl that small couldn't possibly... You expect me to believe that?"
"But I'm not lying!"
The skeptical instructor stood abruptly. "I won't listen to this nonsense." He turned away, gathering several injured students to escort them to the infirmary.
Left alone, the witness sat frozen on the stone steps. A sudden chill ran down his spine as the full weight of what he'd seen settled upon him. His hands began to shake uncontrollably.
"That girl..." he murmured to the empty air, his voice barely audible. "She's not human at all. She's a monster."