The Night the Full Moon Sets
"Please depart."
"Understood."
The morning after last night had arrived.
As the spring dawn shone down, Uriel boarded the carriage and headed to the academy.
Yesterday was truly the worst...
Leaning her head against the window, Uriel closed her eyes.
If it had been her birthday, she never would have wanted to remember it.
At least later on, the mood had lightened as everyone gossiped about Ferzen together...
Euphemia el Lerenne Ruerg, was it?
Letting out a faint sigh, Uriel crossed her arms.
Her own face reflected in the glass of the carriage window came into view.
That unheard-of, trashy little Ruerg family from the boonies shouldn't be worth more than the Alfreds.
Long ago, at the engagement discussions between her and him.
She had wondered what family’s daughter Ferzen—who had coldly spat venom and stormed out—would end up marrying...
It’s just irritating for no reason.
There was no lingering attachment, but it was absurd that he had broken off those engagement talks just to marry a woman like that.
Euphemia wasn’t ugly, but from a third party’s perspective, she wasn’t stunning enough to turn heads.
She qualified as a beauty, but the adjective that came first was surely “common.”
Yet Ferzen wasn’t obsessed with Euphemia’s appearance.
Her allure was something only Ferzen himself could sense and understand.
“I don’t like it.”
She had sent a letter inviting her to a tea party out of curiosity to see what she looked like, but there had been no reply.
Is she avoiding me...?
According to the rumors, even the desks in her lecture hall had been designed at his wife’s suggestion.
And thinking back to that unforgettable painting from last night, Ferzen might be more smitten with her than she imagined.
“...”
A man who wouldn’t flinch even in the moment of death... to think he was such a devoted husband in front of his wife.
It was hard to believe.
Screech.
“Ah...”
Lost in thought, she realized the carriage had entered the academy grounds and finished parking.
She got out unsteadily, and not far away, a carriage emblazoned with a familiar crest caught her eye.
No lecture today, but he’s already here...?
Or maybe just stopping by briefly.
“Hmph...”
It didn’t matter either way.
She didn’t want to dwell on that man any longer, so Uriel shook her head vigorously, her ponytail neatly tied back swinging side to side, and headed to her office.
“This should do...”
After tapping the pen a few times and setting it down, he removed the thumbtack and picked up the paper.
The seating arrangement for the auditorium, where next week’s second-week lecture and paper commentary would be held as a public talk.
Professors didn’t usually handle such details themselves, but if he left it to them and the symmetry was off, he wouldn’t be able to stand it.
Once he handed this to the administrative assistant, he had no other business, so he planned to head straight back to the mansion.
Clack.
Clack.
Descending via the ramp beside the stairs for comfort, the sound of a woman’s heeled shoes approached from below.
This was the upper floor of the main building, not the lecture hall, so likely a professor.
Clack.
As the owner of those footsteps appeared, Ferzen paused for a moment.
“...”
Unlike her previous outfit that screamed “mage” from every angle, today Uriel wore a pure white blouse and a black skirt that fell to her knees.
“You could’ve just nodded in greeting and kept going—why stop? You’re making me uncomfortable.”
Without a word or action from him yet.
She furrowed her brow and spat out her irritation at him.
That day, huh...
Her sharpness was especially pronounced.
“Why are you staring at my stomach? It’s making me feel sick.”
“You’re acting especially impertinent today—I thought you might be on your period.”
“Y-You bastard...!”
“If not, then what’s the reason for picking a fight with me first thing in the morning? Do you want to get scolded like last time?”
“Hmph...”
As she narrowed her eyes slightly, Uriel flinched as if at a loss for words and turned her head away.
“Fine... whatever. Even talking to you is exhausting.”
With a sigh, he resumed his steps, passed her, and descended to the first floor of the main building, entering the department office.
“Alphonse, the second-week lecture will be in the auditorium. Since outsiders will attend and it’ll double as a public talk, use this seating plan as reference... Make sure to post a notice on the board so students know the lecture will be there.”
“Ah... Yes! Understood.”
With that taken care of, he left the office feeling relieved and headed out of the main building when...
Thud!
“Ah...”
Turning the corner, he collided with a wheelchair that shot out.
“...”
What kind of day was this?
Absurdity washed over him as he silently looked down at Lizzy seated in the wheelchair.
Flinch!
Like a dog tucking its tail, she backed away with a growl-like rumble, but lifted her head defiantly to hide her fear, speaking in a trembling voice.
“Th-This... is both our faults.”
He hadn’t paid attention at the corner either, so it wasn’t wrong.
“So... m-move... aside... please.”
Poke.
Poke.
Controlling her corpse servant to push the wheelchair, Lizzy jabbed at his leg repeatedly with her knee.
Rather than insolent, it seemed like cute flailing.
So he stepped aside as she wanted.
Then, with the screeching of wheelchair wheels, Lizzy passed him and exited the main building.
“...”
Watching her back, he fell into brief contemplation.
Is it... positive?
Given their history, he’d expected her to immediately apologize and tremble, but she hadn’t.
Or not...
If they’d been alone in an empty space, maybe.
But this was an open area with people around, so he concluded it was just a minor incident and headed to the parking lot behind the main building, boarding his carriage.
It was now the second week since the entrance ceremony began—March 9th.
At 5 p.m., when all lectures ended, Laura didn’t return to the dormitory but headed outside the academy.
She had permission for an overnight stay in advance.
Yes, not just an outing—an overnight.
She had no intention of staying in the academy today.
“H-Huh... huff...”
Before the sun fully set, she entered the upscale inn where she’d reserved a room in advance and locked the door.
The day she turned exactly 19—Laura’s 19th birthday.
Yes, that was today.
And also the night of the full moon, when the harvest moon rose.
Was this mere coincidence?
It could be... but...
For some reason, Laura couldn’t shake the unease.
A body with not a drop of Genova blood.
So there was nothing to worry about.
The curse-like lycanthropy wouldn’t trigger.
“I-It... ab-absolutely... w-won’t... h-happen... I-I... won’t... tr-transform...”
Slumping against the door, hugging her body, Laura whispered to herself endlessly like a self-hypnosis.
But as the sun set, darkness rising beyond the red dusk.
Her trembling only intensified uncontrollably.
The core reason for her fear: if the Full Moon’s Curse triggered, there was no escaping it.
Even sedated with drugs.
Even starved and exhausted to the limit.
The moment lycanthropy struck, the body entered hyper-awakening, immune to fatigue, never losing consciousness.
Even carving flesh from her body like meat.
She’d die from shock, but never faint.
Even locked in an inescapable iron cell.
If the lycanthropy’s demanded pleasure wasn’t fulfilled, it twisted toward self-harm.
The Genova count family’s Full Moon’s Curse was that vicious.
The only way to break the cycle: death alone.
Soon...
The sunset casting long shadows before trembling Laura vanished completely.
With the stars, the harvest moon rose to illuminate the night.
“H-Huh... ha... hng...!”
As fear-induced arousal peaked.
With irregular breaths that seemed they’d stop any moment, Laura clutched her chest with her left hand, where faint pain arose.
“Hic...!”
At first, she thought it was just her heart racing from extreme tension.
But no.
“Haa...!”
Like a midsummer night’s fever, scorching heat consumed her entire body.
Thirst from her parched throat.
Staggering to her feet, Laura grabbed the water pitcher from the table, pressed it to her lips, and gulped fiercely.
Splash!
Water spilling from her mouth trickled down her neck, slowly soaking her clothes.
Gulp.
Gulp!
But no matter how much she drank, the thirst didn’t quench.
Splash!
Unable to drink properly, she upended the pitcher over herself.
Her damp clothes clung lewdly to her pale skin, faintly revealing her contours.
“Ha, ah...”
Soon, the breeze from the window enveloped her wet body, briefly cooling the unrelenting heat.
Drawn by the coolness, Laura naturally stepped toward the window.
Am I... okay...?
The surging impulse of lycanthropy’s onset wasn’t felt.
Her current state matched the prelude perfectly, but it hadn’t progressed further...
Some kind of... phantom pain...?
Clutching her throbbing head, Laura caught her breath.
Then, suddenly lifting her gaze to the sky.
“...”
The full moon was obscured by clouds.
Seeing that, Laura clenched her fist.
No... it’s not...
As lycanthropy triggered on the full moon, impulses eased temporarily when clouds veiled it.
Absolutely... not...
Gripping the windowsill tightly, harboring a belief bordering on stubbornness.
Laura waited anxiously.
Finally, as clouds slowly passed, revealing the moon’s radiant form...
“Ah...”
The briefly subsided heat flared up violently, and an unbearable murderous impulse boiled over.
The people passing below...
A kind mother holding her child’s hand.
——Rip open that woman’s belly, stuff the child inside, strangle with intestines until suffocation...
Lovers embracing tenderly.
——Twist the woman’s body to wring out blood, grind the flesh, force the man to drink...
“Urk—!”
Vivid hallucinations inducing nausea made Laura vomit on the spot.
Was the Genova count family’s Full Moon’s Curse imprinted not in blood, but in the soul?
Terror and despair of the horrific cycle turning once more enveloped Laura...
But it diluted rapidly.
“Hng, eek...”
As the cloud-veiled moon revealed itself more.
Just imagining killing brought indescribable sweet orgasm.
This was... a sliver of light amid the abhorrent curse.
Celestial pleasure granted in fulfilling the lycanthropy.
“Eek... hic...!”
Twisting her thighs, Laura barely stood, gripped the doorknob, and pulled her robe’s hood deep over her head.
At least it wasn’t lycanthropy craving to kill those fond of her, so that was a relief.
With her waning reason, Laura’s judgment was...
Head to the capital’s outskirts.
Find those whose death would bring less guilt.
Bang!
Yes, that alone.
“Farewell!”
It was a shame.
He’d stopped by the society briefly and checked if the portrait painted in oil from that time had dried, but it still smeared at the touch.
Well, only four days had passed.
I should’ve requested watercolor instead...
Harboring pointless regret, he opened the shop door.
Stepping carefully to avoid the road lines, he approached the waiting carriage when.
Thud thud thud—!
A woman in a deeply hooded robe rushed frantically, shoved his body roughly, stepped on his left foot, and...
Crash!
Fell spectacularly enough to draw gasps from onlookers.
“...”
But without apology—whether from shame or urgency—she scrambled up and dashed off again.
What kind of woman was she?
A pickpocket? Checking his pockets, nothing was missing.
Her rudeness soured his mood, but unwilling to linger in crowds, he boarded the carriage obediently.
Squirm!
“...”
“Shall we return to the mansion?”
“No... that won’t do.”
Shaking his head at the coachman, he pressed his forehead and stepped down, rolling up his sleeve.
“Go on ahead. I have urgent business.”
“P-Pardon...? Ah, understood.”
“Tell Euphemia to eat dinner and go to bed first.”
“Yes!”
The coachman soon drove off.
And Ferzen eyed his throbbing left foot.
Precisely...
Ha...
To have his unstepped right foot stepped on too.
He set off into the night streets chasing the woman who had trampled his left.
This was...
A gravely important matter.
At least for this body—Ferzen.
The fifteenth day of the lunar month, when the full moon rises.
The unusually bright moonlight pouring down tonight followed a woman lost to madness and a man, like a glamorous spotlight...