Chapter 36

The moment Mira moved, the room plunged into absolute silence.

It was as if time had slowed down.

The dagger, sharp and merciless, spun in the air, heading straight for Zamiel's throat.

The sheer speed of the throw was terrifying.

To the watching students, it seemed impossible to dodge—so precise, so deadly that it was clear Mira had intended to kill rather than warn.

A few students gasped.

Some covered their mouths in shock.

Others instinctively took several steps back, fearing the inevitable bloodshed.

Even Zamiel, despite his usual unshaken demeanor, briefly narrowed his eyes.

Yet, just when the dagger was mere inches away from slicing into his pale, exposed skin—

A hand moved.

Fast. Too fast for the human eye to follow.

CLANK!

The dagger stopped midair.

Not because Zamiel had caught it.

But because Athasia had.

Her delicate fingers wrapped around the blade just before it could reach its target.

The sheer force of the throw sent vibrations up her arm, but she didn't even flinch.

Didn't bleed.

Didn't break eye contact with Mira.

For a brief, intense moment, no one spoke.

Even Mira was frozen.

Even Zamiel looked slightly intrigued.

Then—

Athasia exhaled slowly, as if she had just been woken from a dream.

Her green eyes, glowing faintly, flickered to the blade in her grasp. Then, she turned her gaze to Mira, who was still staring at her, stunned.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, in a voice that was neither angry nor scolding, Athasia finally spoke:

"…Trying to kill my man already, Mira?"

Her words sent shockwaves through the room.

The students—who had barely managed to stay quiet—finally lost it.

"HER MAN???"

"Did she just say HER MAN???"

"WHAT KIND OF PLOT TWIST IS THIS???"

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

Meanwhile, Mira snapped out of her shock and glared at Athasia.

"Tch. So you really are bewitched by him."

Athasia sighed, then tossed the dagger back at Mira, who caught it effortlessly.

"He's annoying," she muttered, "but he's mine to deal with."

Zamiel chuckled, his amusement only growing.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on Athasia's shoulder, his cold breath tickling her skin as he whispered:

"Oh, Fenice Oscura, how possessive of you."

Athasia rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

Mira, still seething, tightened her grip on her dagger.

This was far from over.