Extra: Yandere Milfs Obsessed with me!-Chapter 120: What Have You Done to Be Cursed by the Angels... and Hated by the Demons?

Amaera Castillon was seated in her office. She had been the director of the academy for more than twenty years. She was highly respected because she was an orphaned elf who had managed to reach the ninth circle.

She had long light blue hair just like her deep blue eyes with a metallic gray tint, half-closed, probably from boredom, as she looked at the new students’ documents with an expressionless gaze.

Her chest was enormous, heavy and round breasts overflowing from the neckline of her slightly transparent blue dress. Her breasts were so large that they almost rested on the desk in front of her.

From time to time, she cast a slight glance at her many cameras showing the battle royale of the new students.

"These documents are boring to death..." She sighed when her mana suddenly resonated violently.

Her gaze was drawn to a scene. Instantly the room turned to ice.

For some reason, even though her face remained cynical, her eyes showed only one thing. Intense hatred...

"That bastard survived? This time, I will definitely kill you."

***

Olivia Dantalion’s office perfectly reflected her personality: refined, strategic, and slightly intimidating. The walls were lined with ancient maps and portraits of imperial ancestors, while rare artifacts and multicolored vials rested on shelves. At the center, a large dark wood desk was overloaded with parchments, books, and magical observation devices.

Olivia, seated behind it with an elegant and dominant posture, embodied an enchanting and intimidating imperial beauty. Her skin of immaculate paleness, smooth and velvety like the finest silk, captured the golden light filtering through the tall windows, highlighting every voluptuous curve of her body.

Her forms were generous and sculptural: opulent and firm breasts straining the satin fabric of her fitted gray dress, adorned with complex golden embroidery that hugged her wide hips and full thighs, emphasized by the way the garment molded her hourglass silhouette with aristocratic sensuality.

Her long silver braid tipped with gold cascaded gracefully over her shoulder, brushing the roundness of her chest, while her golden eyes, piercing and luminous, shone with sharp, playful but dangerous intelligence, framed by a face with fine and haughty features.

She observed Zane with a calculating smile, her plump lips stretching into an inviting and predatory curve.

"Zane," she said in a soft but firm voice, velvety like a caress, "it’s time to act. I want you to contact an alchemist."

Zane nodded, attentive, his gaze inevitably drawn to the way she held herself, one hand resting on the desk, accentuating the subtle arch of her back and the provocative projection of her forms.

"The target is the son of Count Paragon, correct?"

Olivia leaned slightly forward, her smile widening, causing the fabric of her dress to overflow slightly over her abundant chest, a gesture that seemed both innocent and deliberately seductive.

"Exactly. He possesses potential we cannot let pass. I don’t just want to recruit him for Adrian, but for myself. His skills could shift the balance of power if they are in my hands."

Zane noted quickly, feeling the determination of the imperial youngest, mixed with that sensual aura that made every order irresistible. Olivia gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, her slender fingers gliding with calculated slowness over her impeccable skin, and added:

"I want him to become one of ours, voluntarily or not. I will tolerate no delay. I want him in my office today."

Strangely, the so-called reliable left arm of Adrian was Olivia’s most faithful dog.

***

In a room with dark drapes and golden patterns, Ariana Hornraven was lying on her stomach, on a white silk bed that contrasted with the shine of her outfit.

Her long tapered legs, sheathed in glossy black fabric like latex, crossed lazily in the air, her bare feet with delicate toes swinging with sensual nonchalance. Her voluptuous body, with generous and perfectly drawn curves, rested in a languid pose: her opulent breasts, barely contained by the deep neckline of her black dress adorned with red and gold trims, pressed against the mattress, overflowing slightly with natural insolence.

Her black hood embroidered with gold framed her face with fine and enchanting features: plump lips slightly parted, a delicate nose, and above all those pearly eyes, iridescent like liquid pearls, shining with feverish intensity. Her long flaming chestnut hair, wavy and cascading in wild curls, spread around her like a river, certain strands brushing her bare skin where the dress revealed the beginning of her chest.

She watched the videos projected in front of her on loop, the image of Kaiser’s back frozen at the exact moment he had unleashed that devastating attack. Her slender fingers, with impeccable nails, idly slid through her russet curls, wrapping them with an almost caressing slowness, while her breathing grew deeper, warmer.

It is said that at the moment of death, a person with extreme sensitivity to mana could glimpse a seal engraved on the corpse’s heart. This seal determined the eternal fate of the soul: either Paradise, a hierarchical realm where souls became eternal servants of the angels, marked by a luminous sun; or Hell, an anarchic and violent domain ruled by the law of the strongest, under the dominion of demons, marked by a blood-red moon.

But what Ariana had seen on Kaiser’s back, at the precise instant he had deployed his "Crescent Moon," belonged to neither of these two realms.

A seal of Eclipse.

A blood moon completely obscuring the sun.

A symbol of the only existence banished from both Paradise and Hell. A soul condemned to wander in absolute void, without light, without warmth, without company. An eternal solitude more cruel than any torment. The same curse that had struck the first Emperor, Alexander Sulyvhan.

Ariana slowly rested her cheek against her hand, her lips parting further, a shiver running across her milky skin. Her pearly eyes remained fixed on the frozen image of that cursed seal, shining with a fascination mixed with dread...

"Kaiser D. Paragon..." she murmured.

"What have you done to be cursed by the angels... and hated by the demons?"

"It seems I need to investigate my ex more deeply." She laughed to herself.