The Witch's Whisper
At the same time, in the Imperial Magic Department's 2nd Division Situation Room.
This place, originally responsible for all sorts of administrative tasks within the palace and the maintenance of magical facilities, was now operating under an extreme emergency protocol, with one entire department paralyzed.
Dozens of monitoring magic crystals crammed into the situation room were focused solely on one target.
The Northern Archduchess, Ella von Arzenheim.
Every single movement of hers—from her gestures to her breathing and even the tiniest flows of mana around her—was being meticulously surveilled and analyzed 24 hours a day. That was currently the sole mission of the 2nd Division.
"Ah, damn it... My head's seriously gonna explode. Feels like leeches are sucking the blood right out of my brain. Any mana recovery potions left?"
"You just chugged the last bottle from the warehouse. Quit whining and tough it out. I'm dying here too."
Groans of agony from the mages echoed ghost-like throughout the situation room.
The culprit was the powerful mana-absorption devices plastered all over the palace to keep Ella in check.
These barrier devices, installed to suppress the Archduchess's magic, were mercilessly vacuuming up the Empire's own mages' mana with equal impartiality.
Mana naturally replenishes when body and mind get proper rest, but with no chance to even close their eyes, they were forcibly squeezing out their last scraps to maintain the massive surveillance net. Everyone was on the verge of going insane.
"Haa, fuck. At this rate, we'll dry up and wither from mana depletion before the Archduchess even pulls off whatever magic she's plotting inside or outside the palace."
"At least the surveillance devices were specially shielded by the palace against those absorbers. Thank god for that, or the net would've been breached ages ago."
A young female mage, her eyes ringed with thick dark circles, stared holes into the main monitoring crystal before flopping face-down on her desk with an irritated grumble.
"Ugh, this sucks... Normally, I'd sneak a peek at that hot new Prince Ian from Sterling while pretending to run the surveillance net for some mental healing. But we've been gasping for air for days, staring nonstop at the Northern Archduchess's face—my eyes feel like they're turning into a desert."
"Hey, don't complain when you're full. The Archduchess is a total bombshell. Silver hair, purple eyes—one of the Empire's top beauties. Isn't it eye candy just zoning out on her image?"
"I'm a girl! Staring at a pretty face all day does jack shit for me! I need a handsome guy's face to cleanse my eyes and refill my mental mana! Ahh, I miss Prince Ian..."
As the female mage slammed the desk and yelled her protest, her colleague sitting next to her chuckled, snickering as he stood up.
"Alright, alright. I'll grab some quick food from the cafeteria, so keep your eyes peeled on the main screen while I'm gone. No dozing off."
"Yeah, fine—just bring back some dessert or something tasty. My brain's melting, so I'll watch loosely."
"What do you want?"
"Coffee and pudding. Custard if they've got it, otherwise... any sweet cake, just pack something sugary."
"You'll get fat."
"Doesn't matter, no guy's waiting for me anyway~"
"Keep that up, and you'll end up like Knight White, single spinster into your thirties?"
"...I'm telling White you said that."
"Gasp."
"Kidding. Hurry up and bring the sweets. Or I'll bite you."
Clunk.
With her colleague closing the door and leaving the situation room, only the low, eerie hum of the monitoring magic crystals lingered in the vast, empty chamber.
"Yawwwn..."
The female mage casually glanced at the screen, stretched languidly with a massive yawn, rubbed her eyes, and turned her gaze to the main magic crystal displaying Ella.
On the screen, Ella was lounging in her luxurious guest quarters in the palace, reclining on a plush sofa as she sipped tea leisurely.
No mana fluctuations whatsoever around her—just a perfectly peaceful, everyday scene of flipping through a book and drinking tea.
'The higher-ups in the palace are such damn cowards. She's just quietly sipping tea and reading—why burn out the entire 2nd Division just to roast her alive like this...'
As she propped her chin and muttered inwardly while staring blankly at the screen, it happened in that exact moment.
Ella, who had been elegantly lifting her teacup, suddenly froze every motion.
Then, she slowly turned her head and locked eyes precisely on the palace's top stealth surveillance magic crystal lens, perfectly concealed among the chandelier's ornaments.
"...Huh?"
The female mage's heart plummeted.
A coincidence? Just happened to turn her head that way without thinking?
No, it couldn't be coincidence.
Ella on the other side of the screen was staring straight through it, perfectly eye-to-eye with the frozen mage in the situation room.
That gaze, aware of the observer kilometers away beyond the hidden lens, was chilling.
"Eek."
Soon, Ella's red lips split into an unnaturally wide, eerie arc.
She narrowed her eyes in a bewitching smile and slowly raised her pale hand toward the mage beyond the screen, wagging it teasingly: come here, come here.
'Crazy... Was that a wave at me? How'd she spot that spot? It's got the highest-grade concealment spells...!'
Icy chills raced up the female mage's spine.
As she panicked, fumbling with trembling hands to reach the switch and forcibly sever the crystal's connection—
"...!!"
It wasn't from the speaker.
Right in the heart of the Imperial Magic Department's 2nd Division Situation Room, layered triple and quadruple with defensive spells and anti-eavesdropping barriers.
A cool, languid voice that scraped at her bones pierced straight into the solitary female mage's mind.
Despite the mana-absorption devices blanketing the entire palace—making it hard for regular mages to even breathe—Ella had cast long-range telepathy without a hint of resistance, as if mocking all the restraints and barriers.
"Eek, ah, aaa..."
The female mage flailed and tumbled from her chair onto the cold floor.
Her breath caught, heart pounding like it would burst.
Primal terror before a being not human—a vast monster of overwhelming disparity—crushed her entire body.
Ella on the screen still smiled chillingly, eyes crinkled.
Her lips moved, and another goosebump-inducing whisper echoed in the mage's mind.
Ella's silver eyes gleamed strangely on the screen.
You die.
Head exploding, heart stopping, or shredded without a trace even in this ironclad palace.
The Northern Archduchess's overwhelming, ferocious mana waves churning her brain screamed that warning instinctively.
Along with the horrifying truth that the Empire's prized mana-suppression gear and palace shields were mere toys to that silver-haired witch.
"H-hee, heeek...!"
The final whisper cut off, and the crushing pressure in her mind ebbed away like the tide.
Ella on the screen calmly brought her teacup to her lips as if nothing had happened.
"...Gasp, haaack..."
The female mage huddled on the cold floor, trembling like an aspen leaf, clamping both hands over her mouth.
Tears of terror streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn't even scream.
All she could do was nod frantically at the monster on the monitor, quietly sipping tea like a madwoman.