"But the flower shop doesn’t pay well. You’re supporting the household every day—where would you get spare cash? Take this money. I have no use for it anyway," Mrs. Josephine insisted.

"Mom, who told you my salary’s low? Other shops in the city might be like that, but not the Witch Flower Shop."

Elisa couldn’t help smiling as she said this.

"Our business isn’t booming, but our staff salaries are top-tier in the city. Shopkeeper Lena’s filthy rich—a total tycoon."

"And listen—I’m the acting shopkeeper now. Even the senior staff don’t get this treatment."

Being part of the Witch Flower Shop had always filled Elisa with pride. The work wasn’t tiring, the pay dwarfed other jobs, and back then, countless people envied her.

The acting shopkeeper role meant even higher pay—and Lena’s trust. It hinted at becoming the real shopkeeper someday.

Her future gleamed bright.

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

"That’s wonderful."

Mrs. Josephine hesitated, then tucked the coin purse away. The wrinkles at her eyes didn’t fade.

Elisa knew she didn’t believe her.

In her mother’s mind, a mere flower shop clerk couldn’t earn real money. Even an acting shopkeeper’s salary would be ordinary.

Elisa struggled with this. Those rules applied to normal shops—not the Witch Flower Shop.

How could she make her mother understand? After decades as a Vedona commoner, her views were set in stone.

"So I can take care of myself. I have money. No need to worry."

"If only little Sha had magic... She wouldn’t get bullied. She’d live longer. It’s all our fault—your father’s and mine..."

Hearing her mother’s self-blame again, Elisa cut her off sharply.

"I’ve heard this so much my ears have calluses. Magic isn’t always a blessing. Plenty die in battle every year."

As her mother aged, the nagging and guilt grew frequent. Unpleasant as it was to admit, Elisa knew her health was failing.

She might leave within a few years.

"Besides, I’ve met a Hero named Dorothy lately. She’s amazing. If I ever run into trouble, she’ll help me. Don’t worry."

As she spoke, the memory of that black-clad savior flashed in her mind.

Her cheeks flushed. She rubbed her nose awkwardly.

"Met" was generous—they barely knew each other. After two months, the Hero had surely forgotten her. She’d only said it to ease her mother’s fears.

Knowing her daughter knew a Hero, she’d stop fretting over her future.

"You’ve met a Hero? My little Sha’s really making something of herself! How many guests for your birthday dinner tomorrow? Let me help prepare."

Mrs. Josephine seemed surprised—but it felt like she was just humoring Elisa.

Elisa didn’t press it. She counted on her fingers instead.

"My friends Anna and John... Shopkeeper Lena... and, um, Dorothy."

She added quickly, "Lena will be back at the shop tomorrow. I’ll ask if she’s free. But the Hero friend? She won’t come. She’s too busy."

Dorothy would never come—Elisa didn’t even have her contact. She just needed to patch the lie.

As for Shopkeeper Lena...

Elisa doubted she’d attend. They weren’t friends—just boss and employee.

...

The next day, Lena boarded a carriage with her bag, heading to the Witch Flower Shop.

Celia and the others had nearly healed from their injuries, but Lena gave them extra leave. She didn’t want them overworked.

Truth was, she’d trailed them through the Silent Forest yesterday, guarding from afar.

When the fourth-rank demon beast appeared, she’d considered killing it herself. But after weighing it, she let Celia’s team face the threat.

Bloodshed was unavoidable on the path to becoming a Hero. Only brutal battles forged rapid growth.

Every legendary Hero walked this road. Blood and death—the true, unchanging rhythm of heroism.

She’d seen many juniors quit, fearing death. She respected their choices, never pushing.

If Celia’s team wanted to quit after this fight, she’d support them too.

But to her slight surprise, they’d only grown more determined.

In them, she saw her younger self.

Perhaps this was why the Holy Sword Megaphis chose her?

Buildings crushed by the demon scorpion had been rebuilt. Watching the new structures flash past the window, Lena felt a pang of nostalgia for the old cityscape.

*Ding-dong—*

The carriage bell snapped her out of it. The Witch Flower Shop had arrived.

She tipped the driver, then stepped out gracefully.

*Ding-dong—*

The bell chimed again as the carriage rolled away. Lena studied the flower shop—unchanged after nearly two months—and her lips curved into a soft smile.

Winter camellias now lined the entrance. Through the glass, the shop’s vibrant blooms looked just as she’d left them.

*Elisa did a decent job.*

She pushed the door open. Staff members bowed with bright greetings: "Welcome back!"

*They forgot their shopkeeper after two months?*

Lena smiled sweetly. "I’ll note down who forgot me... and deduct it from your salary this month."

Their cheerful faces froze. Flattery replaced their smiles instantly.

Shaking her head with a quiet laugh, Lena ignored their antics.

Nearby, Elisa bit her lip, hesitating. Anna nudged her arm. "Go on. She’s here."

But Elisa stayed rooted.

She’d be the first staff member to invite the shopkeeper to her birthday.

She was terrified of rejection.