A Bewitched Alphons

Generally speaking, the Children of the Moon did not need sleep.

They were all lunar monsters that had died and been reborn, a hardy race with dragon blood flowing through their veins. Even if slain by blades, they would at most turn into stone statues or ash. They had no need for sleep, nor did they have to worry about sudden death or exhaustion.

The problem of lacking magical power could also be slowly compensated for by drinking blood...

Yet Alphons von Piloty had been able to fall into a deep sleep only after nightfall these past few days.

There was no other reason. He had simply expended far too much magical power during this period...

To complete the rituals Kingsford taught him each day, he practically had to drain all his magical power—because this was an intricate ritual that a Fourth Level Child of the Moon was not capable of handling. As a Ritual Mage of the Path of Transcendence, he was only at the Third Level... He had not yet advanced to the Fourth Level and become a Grand Wizard.

And precisely because he was so weak, he had never been listed as a suspect from the very beginning.

He even had to wear an accessory that temporarily increased his magical power, converting his vitality into magic, just to barely scrape together the minimum power required for the ritual. The accessory itself had also been lent to him by Kingsford. Thus, he was filled with gratitude toward her.

After exhausting his magical power each day, he had to endure waves of pain from deep within his brain before sinking into dream-filled sleep.

That day, Alphons was plagued by nightmares as usual.

He dreamed once more that he had offered an exceedingly foolish suggestion and been harshly berated by