The world was rotten. No, to be precise, the stench rising from the city sewers was the first thing hitting his nose. A magical boy named Luon stood before the sewer entrance, having already half-forgotten why he was even there. His magic wand was poking awkwardly out of his pocket, and the hem of his cloak was about to get snagged and torn on a pile of trash.

He scrunched up his face, pinching his nose shut. With his blonde hair plastered to his forehead by the damp air, he looked exactly like a lost puppy.

"Ugh, is this the right place...? There's no way a witch's hideout would be in a sewer. Right? Right?"

As he muttered to himself, he stepped into a puddle and wobbled, losing his balance. He barely managed to steady himself against the wall to avoid falling, but the edge of his cloak ended up soaked in the muddy water.

"Aaaah! This was issued by the Magic Association! What if they charge me for the dry cleaning...!"

He made a tearful face and tried to shake the cloak out, but it only got dirtier. His golden eyes darted around anxiously. For someone who came to defeat a witch, he was currently more worried about laundry bills; it was clear where this airhead's priorities lay.

Just then, a faint trace of magical energy drifted from the other side of the sewer passage. Luon's eyes went wide.

"Uh... there's something over there. Is it the witch? Is it her? Is it not? Oh, whatever, let's just go!"

He hurriedly pulled out his wand and stepped further into the passage. His steps were brave, but his knees were trembling ever so slightly.