By the time the Senate convened, the north was already in turmoil.
Magical beasts of all kinds rampaged through the outskirts of the North's Watch—one of the few standing forts that separated the Witching Hour from the Bareblood world.
The unending screams of both the people at the North's Watch and the rampaging senseless beasts heard further than they should be. Their presence is undeniable even through the protective bubble of the Witching Hour.
In the northern part of Russia, just a few clicks of the North's Watch, Barebloods keep hearing the roars. As the witches and supernaturals assigned to check up on the Barebloods, were all panicking that the Witching Hour might get exposed.
And as if that wasn't enough—
The Lunarium had been breached.
Its students, who were still in training, had been forced into battle against magical beasts that should have never set foot inside its grounds.
Regardless, none were dead and got off with only slight bruises that weren't healed with magic.
But that didn't matter of course.
Because the Witching Hour had already seen it.
Through Display, the very spell Charlotte Sweeiz had given to the masses, the incident had spread across countless projections.
Screens flickered to life across the Witching Hour, across gatherings, markets, estates.
Everyone saw it. The beasts attacking students senselessly. The panic. The students fighting for their lives. And the very panic that soon followed.
Then outrage.
"She calls that protection?"
"Students could have died!"
"Reckless!"
"Heretic!"
The voices didn't stay outside. They bled even through into the Hall of Witches itself.
It was loud and unfiltered. Everyone was relentless in their beration.
At the center of it all, the Senate gathered.
The four families—Aurelions, Delyths, Valemonts, and Welsch—sat among them, composed and unmoved, as if none of this had anything to do with them.
As if they were only here to observe. Nothing more.
One by one, the matters were brought forward. The northern reaches where magical beasts are adamant in rampaging. The growing instability at the Russian borders separating both worlds. The very risk of losing this secrecy. They can't risk their world for the public to know. They can't bear to join the Barebloods nonsensical wars.
They must not ever.
EVER.
Be discovered.
Then came the next topic—
the Rogue Witch that slaughtered every single one of her bloodline.
Emilia Willow.
A name now whispered with equal parts fear and disbelief.
A student. A student of Lunarium.
She had left quietly—so quietly that Charlotte herself had informed her family of her disappearance, only for them to dismiss it entirely.
It hadn't mattered to them then.
Too bad, It did now.
Before that, there had been nothing unusual about her. She performed well, kept to herself, and passed her tests without issue.
Not exceptional, but not lacking either.
Just… there.
And then she was gone. Days turned into weeks, and with no trace of her whereabouts, the matter was quietly set aside. Until, when all of a sudden, she returned.
And when she did, she didn't come back to the Lunarium. She went home. What followed was not a conflict, nor a struggle for position. It was a complete and deliberate eradication. Every single one, her siblings, cousins, the Arch-Witch of her family, everyone within her family—gone.
No survivors. No resistance that lasted long enough to matter. Just bodies, and silence left in their place.
When the enforcers arrived, they were already too late.
They found her standing at the center of it all, surrounded by what remained of her family. The blood had already settled, the air heavy and unmoving, as if even the aftermath refused to shift. Emilia stood there without a word, her gaze lifted slightly upward, unfocused, as though she were looking at something that wasn't there.
She didn't run nor did she resist. She didn't even react when the enforcers held her off. Now, she was contained—sealed within Absolute Ice, casted by Circe Welsch herself. A spell originally meant for preservation, used by their lineage to protect what they deemed important, had been repurposed into something else entirely. Instead of preserving the caster themselves, she changed it to be target focused spell, locking body and motion alike in a suspended state. Circe had refined it, taking inspiration from Aurora's casting of Absolute Ice but altering its nature. No longer self-inflicted. No longer voluntary. It could now be imposed onto others.
As a prison, it was… effective.
And that, more than anything, unsettled the Senate as the Welsch were accepting the 'heretical' thinking despite being a very traditional family.
With a bloodline reduced to one. Fear spread faster than the news itself.
Because if something like that could be born from the Lunarium—
Then what else could?
The Senate didn't need to say it out loud. Everyone already understood where this was leading.
And finally—
Her name was called.
"Charlotte Sweeiz."
The room quieted. Not completely. But enough for it to lessen the murmurs.
Charlotte stepped forward.
She was calm and composed with a cup of coffee still in her hand as if this were just another meeting she had to sit through.
Eyes followed her.
Some are curious. Some cold. Some are already judging.
"State your position," Mildred Rossi, Mistress of the Senate, spoke—her voice amplified with a spell just enough to cut through whatever murmurs remained.
Charlotte stopped at the center.
"Head of my coven, the Lunarium," she replied simply. "And the one responsible for its operations."
A pause.
Then—
"For its failures as well."
The words didn't come from Charlotte. They came from the Senate. From the seats. From those who wanted it said.
Charlotte didn't react.
At least—
not immediately.
"What happened at the Lunarium," one of the senators continued, "was not a minor incident. Magical beasts breached your grounds out of thin air. Students were put in danger. Your security—if it can even be called that—failed."
Another voice followed.
"Your title and strength are supposed to represent freedom, growth, and innovation. And yet you can't even guarantee safety for your students?"
Murmurs spread again. Louder this time. More confident.
"Perhaps the Lunarium itself is the problem." Fidelia Valemont says, smugly.
That—
That was where it shifted.
Charlotte exhaled.
Slow.
Her grip on the cup tightened slightly.
"…No deaths," she said. Simple. Flat. "No casualties if you can't understand basic English."
"That is not the point—"
"It is exactly the point!"
Her voice cut through the chamber. Loud and sharp. Enough that it forced silence. For a second. Just one.
"You measure failure by the fact that something happened," she continued, her tone still mad, loud enough for the people watching the Display outside could feel her anger.
"I measure it by the outcome."
"No one died and everyone's safe with minor bruises."
"They fought, alongside with their professors, they won."
"They handled something that was unpredictable. Who would have thought magical beasts would spawn out of nowhere?"
That didn't sit well. It wasn't supposed to.
"You dare—"
"I dare what?"
The shift was instant.
The air changed.
Pressure. Heavy. Oppressive.
Charlotte's mana didn't surge wildly. It condensed, ripping the surroundings around her. Like something being held back.
Barely.
"You sit here," she said, her voice dropping just enough to make it worse, "talking about the beasts that made their way into my coven. Did it ever cross your mind who put them there?"
"The north is burning too. Beasts rampaging out of nowhere. Isn't that the part you should be worried about? Someone out there is experimenting on magical beasts, turning them into weapons!"
Silence.
"Think!" she loudly calls out. "Think you old codgers!"
No one answered. "And Emilia Willow?" Her gaze swept across the Senate. Across the families. Slow. Deliberate. "Have you ever thought why she was forced to do such a massacre?! She was a great student! Think why!"
That was it—the point where something shifted. The air didn't crack or explode, but it changed. Mana settled into the space, heavier than before, pressing in from all sides. Not wild. Not out of control. Just there, deliberate and suffocating in its presence. Enough that even the Senate felt it. Conversations died before they could form. Movements slowed. A few of them straightened unconsciously, as if bracing against something they couldn't quite see but fully understood.
Paused.
Charlotte wasn't just a teacher. Wasn't just a founder. Wasn't just some idealist running a school.
She was—
Dangerous.
They had forgotten who she was.
The Heretical Witch.
Charlotte closed her eyes. Exhaled. And just like that, the overbearing pressure was gone.
"…My apologies," she said, quieter now. More restrained. "That was unnecessary."
The tension lingered. But it settled. Albeit, slowly.
Mildred Rossi watched her carefully before speaking again.
"Control yourself, Charlotte."
"I am," Charlotte replied.
And this time—
She meant it.
The Senate didn't press that moment further. Instead, they shifted. With a cold, structured, and decisive decision, Mildred spoke her thoughts.
"Effective immediately," Mildred continued, "the Lunarium will undergo enforced regulation."
A pause.
"To ensure this incident would not happen again, a few things are needed to be done."
Conditions were laid out one by one.
Security checkpoints at every entrance. Mandatory inspections—bags, items, personal belongings. External oversight such as observers.
Restrictions.
The Lunarium would remain—
But it would no longer be entirely hers.
Charlotte listened.
Didn't interrupt nor argue.
"…Understood," she said when it was done.
That alone unsettled some of them more than her earlier anger. Because she didn't resist. She accepted. Too easily.
Hearing the conditions, the four families didn't react immediately.
Not outwardly. They remained seated, composed, as if the Senate's decision concerned them just as much as everyone else in the room.
But beneath that quiet—
there was satisfaction.
A glance passed between them. Subtle enough for the others to not see. They had expected resistance. Debate. Delay. Instead, the Lunarium had been restrained in a single session.
Regulations imposed. Authority cut. Trust shaken.
That was all they needed.
Security checks, inspections, oversight—none of it mattered to them.
Those were surface changes. What mattered was what the people had already begun to believe.
That Charlotte failed. That the Lunarium was dangerous. That freedom, the kind she offered, led to chaos. And once that idea took root, it didn't need to be forced any further. It would grow on its own.
Circe leaned back slightly, her lips curving just enough to show it. Rowena didn't smile as openly, but her gaze lingered on Charlotte a second longer than necessary, quiet and assured. They had already won this part.
"And Emilia Willow," one of the senators added, voice colder now.
"She is too unstable to be kept within any family jurisdiction," the senator continued.
"The Senate cannot contain her. The great families cannot claim her. The Witching Hour cannot afford her wandering free."
A beat.
"She will be transferred to you."
Charlotte's eyes lifted slightly.
"Under your custody. Under your responsibility. Under your supervision alone."
The words were deliberate, structured, and final. They didn't even let her say anything. "You will monitor and decide what she becomes."
A pause.
"That is your additional directive."
Silence followed, heavier than before. Because it wasn't a punishment in the way most expected. It was worse than that.
It was a delegation of something uncontrollable.
A problem no one else wanted to hold anymore.
Charlotte took a slow sip of her coffee.
"So I'm being given a disaster you can't handle," she said quietly. Not anger. Not sarcasm. Just observation.
"Correct," Mildred replied. "Consider it both responsibility and correction. Besides, you already have Aurora, another Calamity you have created."
Charlotte stared at the encased Emilia for a moment longer. Then nodded once. "Understood."
No refusal. No hesitation. That acceptance, again, unsettled them more than resistance ever could have.
"And if she massacres a different family?" another voice asked carefully.
Charlotte didn't look away from the Senate.
"Then I'll take responsibility. She'll be one of my close disciples instead of a student."
A promise.
Despite being a punishment, some saw it as Charlotte getting much stronger. Though, they can't argue. Who would want to take care of a Calamity that could kill them with ease? No one does.
The Senate didn't respond immediately. They didn't need to. The structure had already been set. The Lunarium would be watched. Charlotte would be contained.
And Emilia Willow—
Gets removed out of her encased Absolute Ice.
That same spell that Charlotte showed before. A simple dispelling of such an unbreakable spell.
Conscious of what happened, she just accepts this new life that awaits Emilia Willow.