After a brief rest, the three readied themselves to head out again, like travelers tightening cloaks against a rising wind.

The signs said a cache of Memory Crystals lay nearby, a glimmer in the dust; it was one reason Eli took the long road, like a river bending around stone.

“This area… feels familiar,” Edlyn said, eyes roaming like sparrows, her thoughts drifting like mist over a lake.

Eli turned and looked at her, gaze steady as a watchfire. “You’ve been here?”

Surprise pricked him like a thorn.

Edlyn realized she’d slipped, and hurried on, her voice fluttering like a startled bird. “Just déjà vu, okay? You’ve never had it? Like you already did something here.”

“Oh.” Eli nodded, letting it fade like rain on slate, not pressing further.

Edlyn exhaled, tension melting like snow in spring, then leaned at the window to watch the passing world.

Honestly, she’d almost blurted out that she’d fought here, like storms once clawed this sky.

Back then there wasn’t even a place called Miter; north of here, snowfields stretched like a white ocean.

The Demon Race’s defenses here were laughably thin, like rotten fences in a gale; she sent a handful of rabble, and the human tribes scattered like leaves.

She hadn’t expected an empire to rise after the war, a banner stitched from ash.

Was it a watered-down empire?

Or did everyone call themselves an empire now, names puffed like hot air?

Humans had slid backward, she thought, lips curling like a cat’s disdain.

“Where are we headed?” Edlyn drew circles on the window frame, boredom pooling like stale tea, and sighed.

“To a town nearby. What’s up? Tired?” Eli smiled, easy as sunlight through cloud.

“Yeah. A bit. We’ve been stuck on this wagon forever, eat-sleep, sleep-eat, like a lazy cat in summer. I think I’ve gotten fat.” Edlyn pinched her soft, pale belly, fingers light as feathers.

Her waist still looked slender, a willow stem in spring, yet she felt heavier, like dew gathering on silk.

Eli glanced, throat tight like a dry reed; he swallowed, then snapped awake and slapped himself hard, a crack like a branch.

Damn it. She’s just a kid. What the hell is wrong with you?

Edlyn ignored his sudden weirdness and started sorting her gear, movements calm as flowing water; there was nothing else to do, and Angela had been sleeping constantly, like a bear in winter.

When Angela did wake, she was groggy, fog in her eyes; Edlyn thought she’d seen a flick of gold in Angela’s gaze, a spark like dawn.

She’d feared a curse clinging like ivy.

Eli checked and found nothing; Edlyn probed with the Demon King’s soul, a shadow like midnight, and still found no snare, so she let it go, chalking it up to a trick of light.

Edlyn knelt on the wagon, and slid off her socks, bare feet pale as porcelain; she grabbed the hem of her shirt and folded it, then rolled it up and tied a knot behind, revealing her navel like a shy moon.

She’d seen girls on the street dress this way, breezy as summer wind; she tried it and liked the ease, so she went with it.

She pulled denim shorts from her luggage, short as a heartbeat, swapped out her skirt, then tied her hair into a side ponytail, a sweep like a swallow’s wing; she fetched a larger mirror from the rear storage and took a look.

A white shirt knotted just above her navel like a bow, blue denim shorts snug as a drum, two bare feet flawless as carved jade, hair lifted into a left-side ponytail like a comet’s tail.

Fresh, cute, full of energy, like a sunlit garden; Edlyn nodded in satisfaction, then froze for several heartbeats, stiff as a deer.

Wait, wait—hold up! Why was she dressed like this?

She shot a pained look at Eli on the land-beast, then pushed the curtain aside, a little head peeking out like a curious squirrel. “Hey! Hero! Did you do something to me?”

“Huh?” Eli turned, fog in his eyes like morning haze.

“What are you talking about?”

He didn’t look like he was faking it, so Edlyn grumbled and ducked back, frustration simmering like kettle steam.

Eli blinked, suspicion tingling like rain before thunder; he swung himself inside, and saw Edlyn dressed like a sunbeam, a girl out of summer.

He stared, eyes fluttering, mind blank as a page.

Edlyn noticed his head poke in at the same time; she covered her stomach with both hands, cheeks burning like ripe peaches. “Got anything to say?”

Eli’s gaze had lingered on her small feet, delicate as new snow; he finally came to, raised a thumb like a flag. “Looks good!”

At once, blood trickled from both nostrils, twin lines like red threads.

“Ahem. It’s just—the heat, haha, heatstroke… heatstroke.” He tilted his head to the sky, wiped his nose, guilty as a cat with feathers in its mouth.

“Get out!” Edlyn’s face went scarlet, a sunrise in full blaze; she hugged her belly, lifted her right leg—sockless, neat as a blade—and kicked Eli square in the face, launching him from the room.

Eli rolled and landed across the land-beast, the wagon swaying like a boat in chop.

He wiped his nose again, eyes on the sky, hollow as winter. “I’m doomed. I got interested in a little girl.”

—

At the destination, Eli stuffed two wads of paper up his nostrils like plugs, parked at an inn, and stepped down slowly, calm as falling leaves; he tapped the wagon door. “We’re here.”

Edlyn pouted, mouth curved like a crescent, and hopped down.

Maybe she’d noticed him staring at her stomach and legs earlier; she tugged her shirt down properly, and wore white over-knee socks, twin pillars like lilies.

Eli turned away at once, replaced the paper in his nose, despair dripping like steady rain.

This—this—this… was just too much. Too on point. The clueless girl didn’t get that this made no difference?

He caught the odd looks from nearby people, eyes prying like crows.

What right did they have to stare?

He pulled a white mage robe from his storage, cloth soft as cloud, and draped it over Edlyn, hiding her like moon behind cloud.

“This is safer,” Eli said with a smile, warm as a hearth.

Edlyn pursed her lips, tightened the robe, pulled up the hood, and muttered, “Thanks,” voice small as snowflakes.

So Eli, under a hundred stares like lanterns, carried a dozing loli on his left arm, and held the hand of an ultra-cute girl with his right, strolling into the inn as if into shade.

“Ah, must be father and daughter,” the crowd murmured, voices rippling like a stream.

“Hello, rooms,” Eli said, laying down two gold coins, bright as suns.

The innkeeper was hulking and bald, muscles stacked like boulders, taller than Eli by a head, a cliff beside a tree.

“We don’t take those,” he said, wiping a plate, eyes glancing at the gleam like a cat at fish.

“Huh? Aren’t these standard across the continent?” Eli felt stunned, mind blank as chalk.

The owner scratched his head, his stern look sliding into a simple grin, goofy as a puppy.

Hey, uncle, better keep the stern face; this one makes me want to laugh.

Eli choked back a chuckle, straight as a spear.

“We’re close to Miter. People here use Miter’s currency,” the owner said, words steady as a drum.

“Uh… Miter doesn’t use gold?”

“They do. You just have to exchange it. Miter’s climate is harsh; go a bit farther and it snows all year, a white veil on roads, so folks don’t carry lots of cash. Their papermaking and printing are spotty, so they use a special metal,” the owner explained, voice even as rain.

“One gold coin equals ten Ankalan,” he added, smiling like sunshine. “There’s an exchange at the city edge. I deal with Miter traders a lot, so I don’t keep gold.” He waved, apologetic as a bow.

“Uncle, you move a lot,” Edlyn said, glancing up, eyes bright as stars.

The owner forced a grin and raised a thumb, belly jiggling like jelly. “Oh! You’re cute too, little miss!”

That thumb felt aimed wrong, like a sign pointing into fog.

Eli rolled his eyes, a quick tide, and kept practical.

“How much for rooms then? I’ll get ready,” Eli asked, tone steady as a beam.

“How long?” The owner bit a bamboo skewer, gaze weighing them like scales.

“A week for now,” Eli said, calm as slate.

“Then forty Ankalan should do,” the owner nodded, words dropping like pebbles.

Damn. That’s steep.

Eli’s mouth tilted, a blade bending.

These prices were wild, like weeds after rain.

Even in Draco’s capital, a top-tier nine-point room cost just ten gold; this creaky wooden inn asked for four gold?

“Can’t afford it?” the owner said, helpless as an old dog.

“Uh… heh.” Eli was about to admit it, when—

“We can go cheaper if you help me with something,” the owner said, the offer landing like a rope tossed from shore.

A quest trigger?

Eli’s lips twitched, waiting for the rest, patience like a resting hawk.

“I need you to bring back some herb that grows in the desert. We’re running low,” he said, glancing at the shelves like a farmer at bins.

“How much?” Eli asked, bracing like a tree.

“A hundred jin. Can you? If you bring enough, you stay free, and I’ll even add one gold coin as reward,” the owner smiled, sweet as ripe fruit.

He looked like this was obvious, a mountain that assumed you’d climb; Eli adjusted his sense of local strength, a gauge swinging like a compass.

These people were monsters.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging, light as a feather.

Money always wants more of itself, like rain calling rain.

After asking about the herb’s look and where it grew, Eli prepared to take Edlyn and Angela back out.

First, he needed to swap some gold for Ankalan, coins shifting like fish into new nets.

Since the Miter Empire used a unique currency, he’d follow local custom, like a traveler learning the wind.

When Eli stowed a fistful of Ankalan in his storage, he saw Edlyn in his robe against a wall, like a lily in shade. Three burly men boxed her in, and one held his mage robe, grip smug as a fist.

His mind blanked, then anger rose like a storm tide; he walked over cold as iron.

“Little girl. Come home with me. Uncle’s got lots of treats,” one man rubbed his hands, grin crooked as a gutter.

“Hey. You sure? That robe looks like a custom mage’s piece. Her parents might be high-ranked mages,” the man with the robe said, doubt flickering like a candle.

Edlyn crossed her arms and stared ice-cold at them, gaze sharp as a dagger.

She’d seen something she wanted and asked the owner the price; a brute came over and plucked Eli’s robe off her head, rude as wind ripping a flag.

“Who cares? We have fun and get paid. Perfect. Be good~” another brute reached for Edlyn’s hand, paw heavy as mud.

“Heh. Just mortals,” Edlyn was about to unleash, darkness coiling like a storm, when she saw Eli striding over, fury blazing like fire.

She jolted; the Demon King’s soul she’d roused slammed back into its cage, iron biting like winter. Her body faltered, and she leaned to the wall, weak as a wilting flower.

Damn him. She shot Eli a vicious look, a knife wrapped in silk.

Eli mistook the fear in her eyes for real and flashed forward, a blur like lightning; he pulled Edlyn into his arms, a shield like a wall, then snapped kicks that broke three shins, cracks loud as ice splitting. “Kneel! You think you can do filth to a girl this young?”

Edlyn, held tight against him, heard it and sank her teeth into his waist, sharp as a fox.

Idiot. Can’t you watch your mouth?