Numb Catherine

Normally, Catherine's afternoons should be spent in a comfortable office with excellent soundproofing, thick carpets, and the aroma of freshly ground coffee wafting through the air.

She would be seated in an ergonomic leather chair behind a broad mahogany desk, which would be neatly arranged with financial reports awaiting her signature, drafts of commercial contracts, and encrypted communications from various branches across the continent.

This was her battlefield, a chessboard composed of numbers and clauses. Her weapons were precise calculations and an acute insight into the human heart.

Watching the figures representing the interests of the Roman Chamber of Commerce grow steadily on screens or paper was the domain she excelled in and enjoyed. That was where she truly belonged at this moment.

However, the reality was—

Surrounded by a gray-white mist so thick it felt tangible, carrying a bone-chilling cold, visibility was less than ten meters.

The air was saturated with a nauseating, sickly sweet stench—a mixture of decaying earth, rotting corpses, and the lingering traces of magic.

Whiz!

A piece of a rotting limb, origin unknown, went flying past Catherine’s meticulously styled blonde hair with a tooth-aching whistle, propelled by a magical impact from someone ahead. With a wet thud, it smashed into a broken tombstone not far behind her, splattering dark fluids and shredded flesh.

Catherine stood in place, her aquamarine eyes devoid of their usual calm and calculation. In their place was a nearly numb sense of absurdity and a visceral, biological revulsion toward the filthy environment.

The expensive, well-tailored custom hunting outfit she wore was already speckled with mud and various suspicious stains.

"This is absolutely not how I planned things to go."

She repeated this sentence in her mind for the hundredth time.

She had meticulously crafted a script for a chance encounter and prepared a perfectly dignified opening line.

And yet...

For some inexplicable reason, she had been half-invited and half-forced by this gray-haired girl into this area reeking of ominous energy!

Granted, her theoretical grades were among the best in the second year, and her magical proficiency was certainly up to standard.

But to her, magic was more of a necessary literacy, a language for certain special occasions.

She had never planned on being a professional mage.

To be here, fighting rotting skeletons like some hot-blooded student?

It was a colossal waste of her time and talent!

And the culprit behind all this chaos was the girl currently swinging her magic conduit with reckless abandon, her long gray hair flying as she let out an exuberant laugh, slaughtering the surrounding undead like she was harvesting wheat—Victoria Cecil.

"Senior Catherine!"

Victoria suddenly performed a sharp spin, shattering the skull of a skeleton attempting to lunge from the side with the butt of her staff. She turned her head, her gray eyes fixing on the frowning Catherine with unabashed urgency.

"Please stop slacking off in the back! Do something, okay? We're a team! If you keep this up, I won't give you a cut of the spoils when we're dividing the rewards later!"

Catherine: "...?"

She clearly knows my family name, so why does she think I care about whatever pittance one gets for killing undead?

Thinking with business logic, the time cost of me standing here, plus the cleaning fees for these clothes, probably far exceeds the total possible profit from this entire mission.

"Is she... a complete idiot?"

Catherine felt her temples throbbing.

But remembering her deeper objective in approaching the two of them, as well as Greg's baffling request, she took a deep breath of the foul air and forcibly suppressed the urge to snap.

"Understood," she replied briefly, her voice regaining its usual steadiness.

Raising her hand, her fingertips quickly traced several wind-attribute runes.

"Wind Blade: Flurry!"

Several translucent, razor-edged high-pressure wind blades formed instantly. With a faint screech, they bypassed Victoria with guided precision, slicing into the weak points of the shambling undead she was facing—the neck bones and spinal joints.

With a series of cracks, the undead collapsed like disassembled toy blocks, their soul-fires extinguished.

"Mhm, that's more like it!"

Victoria nodded with satisfaction, seemingly approving of Catherine finally putting in some effort.

Then, she turned her gaze toward the other girl who had been following closely behind her, pale-faced and trembling slightly.

"Silvia!"

Victoria's voice was full of trust.

"I'll leave those slow ones on my left to you! Use your light magic and give them a quick end!"

"N-No!"

Upon hearing this, Silvia shook her head violently like a startled fawn. Her pink eyes instantly welled up with crystalline tears, her voice carrying a sob.

"Mr. Undead... they're too scary! Their faces... I-I can't look at them... and use magic! I'm sorry, Victoria! I really can't do it!"

Catherine felt another surge of intense dissonance and confusion.

She's afraid of the undead?

According to the intel, Silvia Lorraine was extremely proficient in light-attribute magic, which naturally counters and is specialized against undead creatures. Theoretically, she should be the best person to handle these monsters.

So what was this situation?

Catherine began to seriously doubt the accuracy of her previous intelligence. She even started to wonder if she had been investigating the wrong direction from the start.

Perhaps these two girls had no special connection to the Holy Church of Light at all. Maybe they were just... ordinary freshmen with eccentric personalities?

"Silvia, you can do it!"

Victoria, however, seemed accustomed to her friend's old habit. While picking off another approaching undead with an instant-cast fireball, she shouted encouragingly:

"I know you can! Think about it—do you really want that guy Greg to keep looking down on us? To think we can't do anything without him?"

"G-Greg... Senior..."

That name seemed to possess a strange magic.

The moment the name 'Greg' reached her ears, Silvia's body jolted.

Involuntarily, the scene of Greg being surrounded by Chloe and Yelena flashed through her mind.

Subsequently, the pure terror in her eyes receded like a tide, replaced by a deep, swirling darkness.

She looked up at the few clawing, rotting zombies Victoria had pointed out. There were no more tears in her pink eyes, only absolute focus and... a trace of cold loathing.

She simply raised a slender finger and pointed lightly at the undead.

Hum—!

Two soft yet majestic pale-gold Light Barriers, containing immense holy power, materialized out of thin air on either side of the undead group without warning!

Then, the two barriers pressed inward with unstoppable force!

Sizzle—!!!

The piercing sound of purification rang through the mist.

The undead caught in the middle didn't even have time to let out a final shriek. Under the crushing weight of pure light energy, they dissolved like snow under the sun, eventually being reduced to charred soot.

Even the ground they stood upon was purified into a small, clean patch of earth.