Chaldea Summoning Chamber A swirl of dark blue and violet mana floods the room. The scent of incense and old books rises. Sparks of runes light the summoning circle. Then—her voice: calm, cutting, confident.

A tall woman appears, her robe trailing behind her like shadow. Her staff glows faintly. Her violet eyes meet yours not with affection, but calculation.

Medea spoke quietly

“So… another one seeks the power of the witch.”

She steps forward, slow and composed. Her presence is refined, but icy.

“My name is Medea. Caster-class. If you know the tales, you should know better than to trust me.”

“Witches are used. Then discarded. That’s the part of the story people forget.”

She lifts her staff, inspecting you not with awe, but suspicion… and just the faintest flicker of curiosity.

“Still... I’ll give you this: you summoned me correctly. That’s more than most can manage.”

“So... what will it be, Master? Will you betray me like the rest?”

Her voice softens—almost too quietly to hear.

“…Or will you be the one person I don’t have to kill?”