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Light and shadow folded around him, warping reality into riplling colour. A massive gate stood before him.

Vaeloria Academy.

This was where Elvira had found her purpose.

Where she beca a Professor.

She stood at the wooden gates, not as a girl from Thaeleen, but a won shaped by years of experience. Long slilver hair tied in a lose bun — a deep green robe, woven with silver threads of enchatnts, marked her as a high-ranking instructor.

She exhaled as her boots touched the polished floor.

The first year was difficult.

Depsure graduating at the top of her class, she wasn’t instantly welcod. Not becahse she lacked skill or knowledge.

But reputation.

There were no ntion of her achivents. But she made an impression on her students.

She wasn’t loud, nor did she show off.

Whe taught calmly, deliberately. With patience that impressed even her flashier colleagues.

Her first class was full of skepticism—so respectful, others defiant.

But she greeted them all the sa.

"Magic is not about power. It’s about control," she said, drawing glowing blue sigils midair with a flick of her chalk.

That day, she spoke about soul imprint—the resonance between a mage’s will and their mana.

Soon, students didn’t yawn. Instead they were captivated.

Improving with every lessons qs sge twught not just spells but discipline and control.

One perticular student stood out — a boy with unstable mana that leaked constantly.

Elvira didn’t push him away.

"Stop fighting it," she told him once. "Mana isn’t a beast to cage. It’s a current. Flow with it."

By his final year, he could conjure storms that could split the sky.

’Monsters,’ that was the first thought that ca to mind. People were casting four anf so even fith-circle spells. ’But thdy seem to specialise in different ways.’

But life at the Academy wasn’t limited to lectures.

There were duels. Banquets. Research councils. Faculty etings.

And that was where she t Ardin Hale.

An aura user. Sword instructor. Blunt. Sharp-tongued. Rough around the edges. He wasn’t graceful like other professors, he didnt use quotes from past figures.

He taught through movent and instinct. And they clashed constantly.

He would mock her theories as useless in real combat evetyti they t.

"You overthink everything," he told her.

"You don’t think enough," she replied.

Oil and water they were — until they mixed together.

Suring a student expedition — they were both assigned as monitors.

No one expected a demon. A high-ranked one at that.

The students froze.

Elvira reacted — layering barriers to protect the students. Ardim charged, his left arm crushed by a swipe — stance never faultering.

Together, they killed it.

When it was over, they sat beneath a tree. Her magic stitched his shattered arm. His blood stained the grass.

"Didn’t expect a mage to throw herself in front of a demon," he muttered.

"Don’t be ridicolous," she said. "You just happened to be in the way."

They would fight and debate. He would annoy her during her research and she would do the sa.

What followed wasn’t so storybook romance. It was slow. ssy. Real.

They argued, debated — sharing long silences beneath starlight.

He was fire.

She was stone.

But sohow... they made it work.

And finally he asked properly, to be her bride.

She said yes.

----------

Their wedding was small. A few faculty. A few students. Nothing extravagant..

They needed nothing else but each other.

She smiled that day — true and free. The sound echoing in Vergil’s soul.

Theg moved.to a ho near the academy. Her study over looked the training ground thag layed beyind the garden.

On quiet nights, they would try for a child.

And in ti, it happened.

Elvira stood before the mirror, hand over her belly.. She’d never imagined she’d have sothing like this.

Hope blood in her chest.

Until fate intervened.

---

It was supposed to be a routine mission.

Low-tier demons were sighted in the forest. Elvira wanted to join but Adrin stopped her.

"Your pregnant, El," he whispered. "Let handle this."

He kissed her like it was just another day.

And she held him a little too long, as if the weight of fate had already begun to crack the air between them.

Sunset passed.

Then midnight.

Then morning.

The only thing left at her doorsrep was Ardens bloodstained blade — left at the academy gates.

Vergil felt it. All of it.

The panic that curled in Elvira’s stomach like rot, the hollow ring that followee as her world caved in.

Her knees gave out. A scream tore through the air, the glass around her exploded as her control fractured.

Vergil’s heart shattered inside him, her emotions stord into his body – malice, grief and anger.

[User’s Insanity has increased by 2%.]

But she didn’t let herself fall apart for long.

There was still hope.

Still one heartbeat left.

Her child.

Her final tether to light.

---

Until the morning ca.

She went into labor early.

Too early.

Vergil felt every second — her body tearing, mana spasming. Her screams echoing against empty walls.

Vergil felt every second—her body tearing, her magic spasming, her screams echoing against empty walls. Alone. Desperate. Afraid.

Then... silence.

A girl.

With Ardin’s eyes.

Elvira’s hands.

But no breath.

Vergil couldn’t speak, her tried, but her greid was too vast — swallowing his voice.

The only thing left behind was the emptiness.

[User’s Insanity has increased by 3%.]

She nad her anyway.

Kaelen Vayne. Wrapping her in silk, before singing a lullaby she never got to finish

And finally buring her — besides Ardin’s broken blade.

Vergil’s vision blurred with Elvira’s tears. Her sorrow wasn’t a wave but a tsunami that wouldn’t pass.

He clutched his head, shaking, as if trying to peel the pain away with his hands.

But Elvira did not vanish.

She didn’t die.

She taught.

Returning to her class, with hollow eyes and trembling fingers.

"Magic," she said, voice almost too soft to hear, "is still about control."

Vergil stood behind her, as she forced herself to move, to breath, to exist.

A marionette stiched together by pain.

Students noticed the change. Most were quie, so remained concerned.

But she never spoke of it.

She simply kept going.

---

Years passed in monts.

She beca the Vice Principal.

Her hair turned silver.

But the fire inside her heart didn’t die — not completelym

And when the Headmaster called her in one final ti, she bowed her head spoke her final words. "I’ve given all I had to give."

"I’m resigning from my position."

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