Karl nodded to Hen, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Well prepared." He paused. "However, there's one more thing I need to do."
He raised his voice so everyone could hear clearly: "I need to perform a 'mind lock' on all of you."
"This will further enhance your resistance to mental shocks and contamination — think of it as a final safeguard against the influence of malicious gods."
At these words, Triss instinctively took a step forward. Though placing spells on the mind was inherently dangerous, she trusted Karl.
But just as she moved, a dark-green figure swiftly closed in on Karl — it was Margarita.
Triss halted immediately, watching as Margarita's back all but pressed against Karl. Her eyes widened slightly; she let out an almost inaudible "hmph" through her nose and pressed her lips together.
In the end, she said nothing, merely crossing her arms and turning her head away.
She felt a subtle mix of emotions. On one hand, Margarita's almost "preemptive" initiative instinctively stirred a hint of displeasure. On the other hand... recalling Karl's "energy" and combat prowess, she couldn't help but feel that having another person to share the burden wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
At least next time he and Alice "conspired," maybe he could drag someone else along... No, that was about recruiting an ally, wasn't it?
But she hadn't expected that even the usually aloof and forthright dean would show almost no resistance before Karl. There were very few rumours about the dean, mostly overshadowed by her academic achievements and administrative skills. Triss had never heard of any man close to her, nor of Karl's charm... was he really that impressive?
At that moment, Margarita was leaning toward Karl with a smile, the distance between them growing somewhat ambiguous. Her unique fragrance — rich but not overpowering, with floral, fruity, and mysterious woody notes — nearly washed over him.
"How should I cast this spell?" Margarita tilted her face up, her eyes seeming to hold spring water as she gazed directly into Karl's. "Do you need to press your palm to my forehead for a long time?"
Her tone was laced with curiosity and a light, teasing edge.
As she spoke, she naturally raised her hand, her fingertips seemingly idly reaching toward Karl's hand that hung beside him. It looked as though she meant to take it and guide it to her brow.
Karl's eye twitched slightly. He had indeed... somewhat underestimated Margarita, and even more so, women in general. When encountering men who interested them, they could display direct, passionate, and even aggressive initiative. Dozens of people were watching — Hen, Tissaia, Geralt, Triss, and the others...
This dean truly didn't care about others' opinions — or rather, she simply didn't give a damn.
Just as Margarita's fingers were about to brush the back of Karl's hand, Karl calmly stepped back half a pace, narrowly evading the clearly deliberate hand. Margarita's outstretched hand hung in the air.
Her smile dimmed slightly, and her eyes narrowed — but she showed neither embarrassment nor awkwardness at being avoided. Instead, she seemed awakened, revealing a stronger interest and... competitiveness?
Her face still wore that charming smile, her body seeming to lean forward again, ready to close the distance once more.
At that moment, Karl raised his right hand, addressing everyone and giving Margarita no further chance to "entangle."
He waved his palm quickly through the air, the movement remarkably casual.
The next moment, countless dazzling golden motes, like stars or a swarm of fireflies, suddenly burst from before his outstretched palm. These points of light did not scatter chaotically but rapidly dispersed through the air the instant they appeared.
They flew straight toward everyone present — Dalton, Philipp, and the fifty-three knights behind them. Triss, Yennefer, Keira, Margarita, Hen, Tissaia, Mossak, and the others...
The golden motes were like gentle raindrops, silently sinking into everyone's foreheads and vanishing.
The only one "missed" from the crowd was Geralt — clearly not out of discrimination or neglect. It was the mind-lock technique Karl had already performed on Geralt before, and there was no need to repeat it.
The moment the light motes touched their foreheads, almost everyone closed their eyes simultaneously.
An indescribable, warm, and peaceful sensation — like sunlight and a mother's comfort — spread from the depths of their brows, instantly enveloping their entire minds.
After days of intense training, repeated spellcasting drills, and tactical discussions, the internal pressure had caused mental exhaustion, anxiety, and a subtle sense of tension. At the moment this power brushed past, it quickly faded away.
Their moods unconsciously grew calm and joyful, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. The tangled, anxious, and uncertain thoughts in their minds settled, and their thinking became clearer than ever.
A moment later, everyone gradually opened their eyes and looked at each other. They all saw the same surprise, comfort, and renewed spirit in one another's eyes. Even without words, everyone understood that their feelings were the same.
Margarita also opened her eyes, first savouring the wonderful clarity and calmness in her mind. Then she raised her hand and touched her smooth brow with her fingertips, obvious surprise on her face.
"That spell..." Is that all? Her voice was full of astonishment. "Such a high-level, mentally involved protective spell — you don't need to chant, use gestures, or even..." physical contact?
"You... just waved your hand? Like playing with children and tossing stones?" Margarita froze, her eyes deep as she looked at Karl.
Karl smiled and pointed to his eyes. "I trust my 'eyes.'"
"What they see is more accurate than you think, and they would never harm your minds."
Hearing this, Margarita's eyes flickered, her long lashes trembling twice, as if she suddenly remembered something. The surprise on her face vanished, replaced by a sly and charming smile.
She leaned forward slightly, once again closing the distance with Karl. Then, in a voice like a lover's whisper that only the two of them could hear, she softly asked: "Your eyes... impressive, are they?"
At the same time, she smiled and inconspicuously tapped the edge of her dark-green dress, just below her lower abdomen, with her index finger.
"Then can you guess... today, what colour are they underneath?"
Margarita's voice grew even lower, carrying a seductive breath, her eyes fixed on Karl as if trying to draw him in.