Episode 4
On a workbench, surrounded by bottles of colorful liquids, sat a black, webbed duck’s foot—big as a human head.
It was from the sulfur hell-duck Nero had fetched from the Demon Realm last night.
The hellweed he brought with it was already boiling down in a big cauldron.
[Still don’t get it, meow. Why do witches bother making potions the hard way?]
The black cat stretched lazily across the iron stand holding the cauldron.
Lindsay fanned under it to keep stray fur from falling in while she stirred.
“Think about it. Remember the first thing Freya said to us when we met her?”
[That she wanted company, meow.]
About forty years ago, Lindsay and Nero had stumbled upon the Winter Witch’s house while wandering near a canyon between Eskia and the Roman Empire.
The witch had been so happy to see them—she handed them snacks she’d made herself and begged them to stay for conversation.
The snacks were so good that Lindsay and Nero ended up hanging around for a whole month, chatting.
“See? Witches make things like this because it’s a hobby. You’re the weird one for not having one.”
[Not true, meow. Teasing you is my hobby.]
“…Well, at least you have something.”
[Cheeky witch.]
Nero flicked his tail. A bunch of hair came loose, drifting down into the cauldron.
“Ah! Nero! You shed into the potion!”
[Hmph.]
“‘Hmph’? Do you know that means I have to stir for another hour now?!”
To purify the contamination, she added a drop of morning dew and a drop of fairy tears.
Then she plucked Nero off the stand and deposited him on his cat tower.
He climbed to the very top, perched there primly with his paws folded, chin resting on them.
“…Should’ve put you there from the start,” Lindsay muttered with a sigh.
Once the cat was out of the way, the potion-making went smoothly.
A ruby-red liquid clung thickly to her spoon, shimmering.
She quenched the flames under the cauldron with a quick steam spell.
[Look at you, tossing magic around like it’s free.]
“It is, kinda. After yesterday, I’ve got more than enough to spare.”
And not just any magic—Lionel’s mana was the purest, most efficient she’d ever absorbed.
Honestly, it was top-tier.
“…What time is it?”
Nero’s tail swayed happily. The sight made her shiver a little.
Wait. Did he sneak more fur into the cauldron? No, the potion came out fine… so why did he look so smug?
[It’s noon. Oh, and congratulations.]
“…For what?” Her voice cracked.
The cat’s tail curled into a wider arc, like he was about to tease her.
[That guy came by again. Guess he wanted to refill the mana you’ve been burning through.]
“…That guy? You mean Lionel? He actually came here?!”
[Better get up there if you don’t want your barrier spell broken.]
“…Barrier?”
[How many barriers do you think you’ve got here, meow? Two?]
No.
Just one.
The only barrier protecting her shop.
The one she spent three whole days building without even a proper blueprint.
“Shit—”
She threw the spoon aside and sprinted upstairs.
[Didn’t I tell you? Don’t go around healing humans at random…]
Nero stayed behind to finish the cleanup.
From the shadows beneath the workshop lamps, black demonic hands rose up.
They carefully bottled the potion, corked the vials, then washed the cauldron and spoon before vanishing back into the dark.
Satisfied, Nero curled up on the cat tower for a nap.
Meanwhile, Lindsay was bounding up the stairs two at a time, praying.
Please, don’t break my barrier.
Please.
That thing’s barely holding together as it is!
She burst into the shop, shoved shelves of potions aside, and dove under the counter to yank the front door open.
“Stop!!!”
Lionel froze, hand half-raised.
He looked almost disappointed as he let the mana fade from his fingertips.
“You even had detection magic on it? What a shame.”
What’s a shame?! That you couldn’t break it?!
Grinding her teeth, Lindsay waved him back.
He obediently lifted his hands and stepped away from the door.
Only after checking the outer wall and seeing her spellwork still intact did she exhale in relief.
Then she grabbed him by the collar.
“If you’re gonna visit, knock like a normal person! Why the hell would you mess with my barrier?!”
“Because I couldn’t scan past it.”
“…That’s the point! I made it that way!”
She tightened her grip on his green Mage Tower cloak.
He just looked down at her lovingly, as if her fury was adorable.
“If you don’t like it, then give me a way to contact you. Otherwise, next time, I’ll just break the barrier. Oh, and now that I’ve seen the spell formula, I could probably smash it in one go.”
That was basically a threat.
Her hand fell away, powerless, and she stomped back inside.
“Follow me.”
“…Oh! You meant—follow you?” His voice instantly brightened, cheerful again.
She rolled her eyes at the whiplash shift in tone.
“I’ll give you a way to contact me. But one more try at breaking my barrier, and I’ll make you regret it.”
“Relax. If I can contact you, why would I break it?”
So if I stop answering, will you break it?
Suppressing a groan, she led him down into her workshop.
Thanks to Nero, the place was spotless.
She picked up a small flowerpot with a green blossom and handed it to him.
Lionel brushed its leaf lightly—it just drooped. Boring. He glanced back at her like, Really? That’s it?
“It’s a wind-bird flower. Watch closely. I’ll show you.”
She channeled mana into another one on her desk.
Its petals flapped like wings, detached, and zipped around the workshop like a little bird.
“Lionel Belmonche,” she said clearly.
The flower fluttered to his ear, whispered her words, then settled back onto its stem.
His lavender eyes sparkled as he stared down at the pot in his hands.
He copied her, feeding mana into it.
“…Lindsay Monahan. This is a clever way to communicate.”
The green bird in his flowerpot stretched its wings and chirped, ready to fly.
