The Butterfly That Swallowed the Fog
Stirring the fog from her head, Tilia deliberately sought out a restroom a fair distance from the exam hall.
Originally, the main building’s first floor housed nothing but the department office. With the exam only a few hours away, why would Gregory Myers be lingering outside this distant women’s restroom?
The answer was clear: it was meant only for him.
Tilia’s mind rapidly pieced together the situation. The hyper-sensitive state of her senses. Gregory Myers’ expression, as if he were waiting for something. And most of all, his leering, vulgar stance guarding the entrance to the solitary restroom…
Instantly, a memory of her conversation with Judy flashed through her mind.
“Holy water? Honestly, it was originally something knights drank. So ordinary people like us are told to stick strictly to the prescribed dosage—otherwise our bodies might overactivate and cause issues.”
“What? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“No. Once your senses become too hyper-sensitive… they say you’ll be reduced to nothing but primal instincts. Someone will have to satisfy you, or you’ll be forced into a body you can’t endure. Only when another person’s energy mixes with yours will you return to normal.”
Simultaneously, Gregory’s hurried words from outside the library came rushing back.
“Is that all you heard? Only that? No misunderstandings?”
At the time, she had simply brushed it aside without thinking further, but he had clearly been watching her closely. Worry had flickered across his face—did he suspect she had overheard something important?
…No way. That’s impossible.
Tilia stood frozen for a moment, then let out a hollow laugh and shook her head.
Even Gregory couldn’t possibly do something so vile. Besides, she had only drunk the water she had brought from the dormitory today.
Delusions. There’s no way he’d do that.
She forced a laugh to sweep away her unease and quickened her pace toward the restroom exit.
Yet her steps, as she stepped through the sunlit doorway, began to slow gradually.
It’s not true…
The steps that had slowed now refused to move forward at all, as if an invisible weight pinned them in place.
It simply could not be…
Tilia’s clenched fists trembled faintly before slowly falling limp.
Still… just in case.
She exhaled a heavy sigh from deep in her chest and opened the door of the toilet stall.
She locked the bolt with a firm click, then—pale fingers trembling—unbuttoned her blouse.
Her slender hands shook several times before she finally managed to lift the hem of her skirt.
And when she looked down…
…Insane bastard.
At last she let the curse she had held in all day spill out.
Her underwear was soaked.
Not to the point of denial, but in a blatantly obvious way.
She had no interest in men, and she was far from naive enough to not understand what her body’s condition meant.
She had mistaken the erect sensation for pain, but with such undeniable evidence before her, there was no choice but to accept it.
He had drugged her.
Tilia could not steady her shaking legs and sank onto the floor.
Judy’s voice echoed inside her dizzy head.
“So, don’t drink water carelessly when you’re out. I heard from my brother that things have gotten weird lately. You know, those girls in society who have money but low quality? Just in case, don’t drink it.”
But no matter how she thought about it… she had only drunk the water she brought with her today.
Was it possible that he had switched her bottle the moment her guard was down?
But when? And so quickly?
She tried to recall the past, but her thoughts were growing hotter and hotter, and she refused to entertain them.
Instead, emotions took their place.
Anger. Sadness. No—precisely… despair.
It was terrifying, wretched, and hopeless, to the point where her breathing choked.
Only thinking about it makes it clear it’s him. He’d happily drag me into a corner and have his way without looking back.
Gregory Myers’ arrogant shout outside the restroom echoed through her head.
A victim complex she had never experienced before surged up her throat.
Even if she were a noble daughter from a decent family, could Gregory Myers really do something like this?
Even if she had been Lady Cecelia, or even someone else from the Academy, could he have done this to her?
Tears tracing down her cheeks from the heat felt lukewarm.
Tilia sat on the clean, fragrant restroom floor, burying her face in her knees.
…I’ll kill him.
Yet the time she sat crying was short.
Tilia raised her head, as if to ask when defeat had crept into her thoughts.
How dare you do something like this to me?
Her wet, emerald-green eyes blazed as if filled with fire.
“I’ll give up?”
Tilia roughly wiped her face, stood from the floor, and dug her nails into her still-weak thighs before finally forcing herself upright.
Just wait. The one who’ll be laughing last is me.
Slap.
Tilia struck her own cheek hard, trying to cool her head.
Revenge was, of course, necessary. But right now was not the time to be ruled by emotion. She needed to solve the immediate problem first.
Think.
Tilia chewed the inside of her cheek, searching for a solution.
From the circumstances, it was clear Gregory Myers had used the holy water that had been secretly spread around her to drug her.
She had no idea why he would do something so underhanded right before the exam, but recalling his filthy smile and the front of his pants left no room for doubt.
He said only when mixed with another person’s energy would he return to normal…
She had only about three and a half hours left.
Within that time, she had to find a way to take the graduation exam.
Tilia took a deep breath and recalled the three possible options.
First: Inform the professor of her condition, go to the academy hospital for necessary treatment, and take a make-up exam alone.
However, this option carried a major flaw: make-up exams due to illness would only count for eighty percent of her original score.
Even if she claimed it was an unavoidable disease caused by others, it was uncertain. For Tilia, who had to graduate this year, the risk was too great.
Then, the second.
She tried to stay calm as she thought of the next plan.
Inform Judy, then ask her to bring a high-ranking priestess.
Even if she had to resort to desperate measures, Judy—having every connection imaginable—would surely find a top-tier priestess to save her.
But this plan also had drawbacks. No matter how much Judy was the youngest daughter of the Wells family, could she really secure a proper priestess within such a tight time frame?
Moreover, there was a risk that her friend, who had already understood the situation, would not hesitate to tell the professor anyway.
That would mean the second plan would ultimately lead to a make-up exam as well.
Then… the third.
Tilia chewed her nails in frustration as she muttered the third option.
Within three and a half hours, sleep with someone.
According to Judy’s later addition, if someone had overused holy water, they could only return to normal when mixed with another person’s energy.
She had said the same thing: once that condition was met, he could take the exam alone.
But…
Like the other options, the third had serious problems.
The first was that she had no experience, and the second was whether she could find a man with no chance of leaking who would be fine even if she rolled around once.
But this way, if successful, she could safely take the graduation exam.
Tilia chewed her lip, recalling the fundamental issue only the last option could solve.
Even if she failed to find the right partner, unlike the other plans, this one had the advantage of being able to execute Plan B.
If it didn’t work, she could simply explain the situation to the professor or Judy.
Her narrowed eyes closed once more as she reconsidered the problems with the last method.
The first problem was, in fact, not a big issue at all.
She could simply pretend to have experience.
Even if it was discovered to be her first time, the other party would surely not care.
Most men would probably be delighted rather than disgusted.
Tilia’s lips curled in a cynical smile as she recalled the second problem.
A man with no leaks… someone I don’t mind sleeping with…
As long as it wasn’t a man like Gregory Myers, it would be fine. She could never sleep with a toilet anyway.
Tilia swallowed an inappropriate laugh and set the necessary conditions.
He must be someone who would readily accept her absurd request, and a man surrounded by many women who would not attach much meaning to her.
Ideally, his face should be better than Gregory Myers’.
The filthy second condition—that he was a man surrounded by women—did worry her a little, but the rest could be satisfied.
Three and a half hours.
Tilia recalled the remaining time and breathed slowly.
Her dizzy head kept trying to push out reason.
Hot breath mixed with moisture, and the wet underwear clung to her body.
Actually, Tilia herself could not be sure.
Was this truly not madness?
Was she not just rationalizing to follow her instincts?
But the plan had already been chosen, and she had decided to go for it.
Tilia swallowed the sticky saliva behind her burning throat and opened the bolt of the tightly closed stall.