Several months had passed since the Geneva Summit. The world had not fallen apart. To the surprise of many, it had actually begun changing for the best. There were still arguments, setbacks, and uncertainties, but the world continued moving forward.
Coexistence laws had slowly spread across multiple countries. Vampires, witches, and werebeings had become familiar sights throughout much of the world. Faes remained elusive by comparison, appearing only occasionally beyond their territories, but even that was changing.
Vampires walked through city streets beneath umbrellas and enchanted sunshades. Werebeings openly visited parks, gyms, and shopping districts. Witches appeared on educational broadcasts explaining mana to audiences that still occasionally confused spellcasting with stage magic.
Humanity adapted. As it always did with the many bizarre situations they have been in.
Portal gates now connected portions of the surface world to Nocturne. Security remained strict, but ordinary Barebloods could finally visit the hidden city beneath the earth. The public loved it. Tourism exploded almost immediately. The glowing mana lamps, the underground markets, the architecture, and the strange mixture of old traditions and modern conveniences made Nocturne one of the most sought-after travel destinations in the world. Following its great boom in the market, other Witching Hour cities had tried its best to connect with the world. Of course, Charlotte had profited from it with her mastery of Spatial Magic. The enthusiasm was hardly limited to tourists. Silas had spent the past few months playing tour guide for curious friends, relatives, and visitors. His mother, Astrid, had quickly become one of Nocturne's most enthusiastic repeat visitors, claiming she wanted to spend time with her son before disappearing into whatever market happened to catch her attention. To be fair, Nocturne seemed determined to give her reasons to return. Every visit brought new shops, new restaurants, new attractions, and enough new merchandise to convince Astrid that another trip was absolutely necessary. As one of the family's employees, a babysitter of Silas when he wants to be outside, Ingrid had been dragged along for every trip. She regretted all of them as the two had too much energy, being a werebeing and all.
"Look!"
Silas pointed excitedly toward a stall selling enchanted pastries shaped like tiny dragons that moved on its own and its flavor enhanced.
"Look!!"
A few moments later he pointed at something else.
"Look!!!"
Then something else.
"Look!!!!"
Ingrid stared at him, exhausted.
"You've said that forty-seven times, Silas."
Silas thought about it.
"Look!!!!"
He says once more, pointing to another stall, dragging both her mother and Ingrid.
Ingrid covered her face. Beside them, Astrid laughed. Silas's mother had insisted on visiting Nocturne the moment tourism opened. Ingrid had somehow been dragged along.
Again.
She was beginning to suspect her life had permanently become babysitting a werewolf. Not that she minded. Much. The paycheck alone made the inconvenience difficult to complain about. She had more money than she knew what to do with at this point. Looking back, she probably should not have been surprised. Any family that had spent centuries accumulating wealth would naturally end up rich. The downside was that Astrid seemed convinced Ingrid's employment contract included accompanying her on shopping trips.
Elsewhere, another institution was experiencing its own problems. The Lunarium had finished its school year. Students returned to their homes across the Witching Hour. Some left excited. Some left exhausted. Most left carrying enough homework to qualify as a curse.
Then enrollment opened once more. The problem became immediately obvious. Everyone wanted in. Applications arrived by the thousands. Witches, Vampires, Werebeings, the Curious, and the Barebloods. They all hailed from different walks of life just like before. Children of influential families and children of ordinary families. People who wanted to learn magic and people who simply wanted to see the famous school. Not only that, but also those who hated the idea of the school had changed their minds and joined up themselves. Of course, the Welsch and the others were still mad, but no one can deny the results it would bring their families. They just had to sucked it up and wait for an opening.
Additional classes had to be created. Separate introductory programs were established for Bareblood students. Basic mana theory before giving out the Lunarian Principle. Public safety to the use of magic. Proper etiquette on magic. And to end, History.
The Hall of Witches quickly discovered that teaching ordinary humans required significantly more paperwork than expected. Charlotte solved the staffing issue in the simplest way possible. He made more homunculi. Entire batches. Restoration received teaching assistants. Destruction received teaching assistants. Alchemy, whose rapid development was already attracting attention from both doctors and healers, received teaching assistants. So did Enchantment, Conjuration, Illusion, Alteration and nearly every other discipline taught within the Lunarium. The sudden flood of applicants had left Aster with little choice but to create an entirely new generation of homunculi to keep up with demand.
The original homunculi teachers found themselves promoted almost overnight. What had begun as a handful of instructors had grown into entire departments, with each of the first homunculi placed in charge of their respective fields as department heads. Aster even created a new senior homunculus specifically for Alchemy, a rapidly growing discipline that was already drawing attention for its potential applications in medicine, industry, and magical research.
His name was Nicolas. A meek man with round glasses and a perpetually gentle expression that made him look more suited for a library than a laboratory. Beneath that unassuming appearance, however, was an encyclopedic knowledge of magical ingredients. From the organs and blood of magical beasts to rare flowers, herbs, fungi, and minerals found throughout the territories of the Witching Hour, Nicolas knew their properties almost by heart. Much of that knowledge had come directly from Aster himself, who had passed on centuries worth of accumulated records and research for the homunculus to study and eventually teach to future generations of alchemists.
Then summer vacation began. Charlotte vanished.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
The moment classes ended, she disappeared. Leaving everyone else to handle the rapidly expanding Lunarium during one of the busiest periods in its history.
Elowen was not surprised.
The school guardian merely sighed before returning to work. As the Lunarium's second-in-command, she had long since grown accustomed to Charlotte's habit of vanishing whenever things became someone else's responsibility. Around her, countless puppets continued sorting documents, delivering messages, assisting students, and handling administrative tasks alongside the ever-growing staff of homunculi.
The work never stopped.
Neither did her creator's ability to disappear at the worst possible moment.
Unfortunately, he did not disappear alone. Her coven daughters, Aurora and Emilia, were dragged with him. Theodore wasn't able to join the little getaway because he was currently occupied with Seraphine and the increasingly complicated affairs of the Beaumont family.
Aurora remained convinced Theodore was the lucky one. Which was why she currently found herself sitting beneath a beach umbrella. On a tropical island. At a private resort. Owned entirely by one person.
"How?"
Aurora asked.Aster looked up from his drink.
"Hm?"
"How."
He blinked.
Aurora pointed around them.The beach. The ocean. The resort. The villas. The staff. The island itself.
"How."
"Oh."
Aster smiled.
"I bought it."
Emilia lowered her sunglasses.
Aster just laughed and returns to his drink, bathing in the sun.
The two girls groaned. The Witching Hour had spent centuries carefully managing resources, political relationships, and magical infrastructure. Aster apparently spent his free time purchasing islands. The worst part was that he genuinely looked relaxed.
For once, he wasn't acting as Charlotte.
For once, he wasn't dealing with senators.
For once, he wasn't handling students.
He simply sat on a reclining chair wearing only shorts, appropriate for a beach.
Nearby, several attendants moved throughout the resort. Like many of Aster's creations, they were homunculi. Unlike the teaching staff at Lunarium, these ones were designed for hospitality. They carried drinks. Prepared food.
And somehow displayed better customer service than most humans.
One approached carrying refreshments. Aster accepted his drink.
"Thank you."
The homunculus bowed politely.
"My pleasure, sir."
Aurora still wasn't entirely comfortable with how naturally they behaved. Emilia had given up questioning it months ago.
The afternoon passed peacefully.For once. The sound of waves filled the air. The ocean stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Aurora eventually decided to swim. Emilia followed after being physically dragged toward the water. Aster remained beneath the umbrella.
Relaxing.
Doing absolutely nothing.
Then his phone rang. Aster glanced at the screen. Smiled and answered quickly.
"Ollo?"
Aurora barely paid attention at first. Then she noticed something. The smile disappeared.
The change was so sudden she almost thought she imagined it. Emilia noticed too. Aster listened quietly. No jokes. No laughter. No teasing remarks. He just focused on the other end of the phone.
"...Is it functional?"
A pause.
Then: "I see."
Aurora exchanged a glance with Emilia. Neither had ever seen him react like this before. Not even during the summit. Not even during political crises. Not even during emergencies.
Aster slowly stood from his chair. His gaze lifted toward the sky. For a brief moment, something almost looked... relieved.
Satisfied.
Like someone finally seeing the finish line after years of work.
"Keep up the good work."
His voice remained calm.
"I'll visit tomorrow to check personally."
Another pause.
Then he ended the call.
For several seconds he simply stood there. Looking upward. Thinking. Then the smile returned. Not the joking smile. Something quieter. Something genuine. Someone excited.
Aster turned back toward the girls.
"I'll be leaving you to your own devices tomorrow. Go back to the Lunarium or my apartment or wherever you want."
Aurora frowned.
"What happened?"
"Side hustle."
"Side hustle?"
Aster nodded.
"Important side hustle."
That answer alone was enough to concern her. Aster had a habit of treating governments, senators, international summits, and diplomatic crises as things that could be dealt with later. If he was willing to interrupt his vacation for a "side hustle," then it was probably more important than most world affairs. Which was a deeply unsettling thought.
Yet somehow this phone call had gotten his full attention. Aster began walking toward the resort's main building to eat lunch which he called out to the two before going in. Neither girl stopped him. Neither knew what to say. They simply watched him leave.
Aurora and Emilia watched him leave. Neither knew what he was planning. But after seeing the look on his face, both were certain of one thing. Whatever Aster called a side hustle was probably about to become everyone else's problem.
Though, they were hungry and had left that idea the moment their "coven mother" called them for lunch.