In the middle of the night, at the residence of Cornelia Grimm, the Head of the Witches.
The beautiful red-haired witch was in her bed, but instead of being in a peaceful sleep, she was restlessly tossing among her sheets. Her face wore a pained expression and her breathing shallow, her fine brows knitted on her forehead that was glistening with sweat. Her hands were clutching and tugging on the bedsheet as if she was struggling to be released from a terrible nightmare.
A rain of petals… camellia flowers…
A solemn graveyard…
Red blood flowing… someone was stabbed…
"No, no…don't…" she continued to mumble in her sleep.
The energy emitting her body was getting stronger and—
"No!"
Smash!
Shatter!
