Shea’s tone was resolute, the kind that meant she’d follow through.

This left Abel conflicted. Hiding the truth wasn’t ideal, but white lies existed for a reason—should he try bluffing Shea?

During their silence, Abel stole a glance at her. Her expression was utterly serious.

Should he really spill it?

…No.

Abel took a deep breath and grinned. “Don’t worry, Shea. It’s nothing major. I’ll fix it soon.”

Yet even after his words, the cloud of worry on Shea’s face didn’t lift. After a pause, she replied coldly.

“Perverted old man, you know what?”

“I know what?”

“When you lie, your gaze drifts sideways. You look guilty.”

Her voice was icy—disappointed, almost indifferent.

“…Yeah.”

“It’s serious, isn’t it.”

It was her own body, yet Shea acted like it didn’t concern her. Abel couldn’t help feeling guilty.

“Yeah. Very serious.”

He couldn’t lie anymore. But revealing the truth meant bracing for Shea’s reaction—hopefully, she wouldn’t spiral into despair.

“I see… Thanks.”

Shea’s expression remained unchanged, hiding any turmoil perfectly. Abel had expected an emotional storm, not this calm acceptance of harsh reality.

“Still, Abel…” Shea finally spoke his name, locking eyes. “Don’t lie to me again. Not even ‘kindly.’ I forgave Nelly, but I won’t allow it from you.”

Abel realized this cat-girl’s inner strength—and stubbornness—far exceeded his expectations.

“Got it.”

The mood grew heavy. Abel then remembered Nelly’s plan for Shea’s new mentor.

“Don’t lose hope, Shea. Magic’s just one path to strength. There are others. Your teacher will arrange new lessons.”

“Nelly…” Shea murmured. Nelly cared for her, but strength was merely a step toward her real goal: slapping that trashy little sister’s butt.

Though getting stronger would definitely speed up that reunion.

“When?”

“Once you heal, visit her at the Magic Academy. Even if swordsmanship’s out, try alchemy or potion studies.”

“I will. But Abel…” Shea’s tone shifted playfully. She squinted her left eye. “I’m injured, you know~”

“Uh… yeah. You are.”

Abel felt a familiar dread—this Lucky Cat was up to something.

“Moving’s really tough, right?”

“Mhm.”

“So treat me to ice cream. The creamy kind from East Street’s parlor. Hurry—it’s hot. Don’t let it melt.”

“…”

Abel sighed in defeat. “A parlor five kilometers away? You’re really pushing it.”

“I’m the patient! Hehe…” Shea smirked like a spoiled rich loli.

“Fine, fine. Rest up. I’ll be back.”

“Thanks! Love you! Muah muah~”

Who knew how sincere that “love” was? Abel didn’t care—he’d indulge her.

Besides, he sensed she just wanted solitude.

“Huh?”

Leaving, Abel spotted Rora’s letter on the desk. He recalled the fake Rico luring him out—was the real Rico just delivering this?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Blocking Shea’s view, Abel pocketed the letter silently and exited.

The noisy bedroom fell quiet again, leaving only Shea.

“So peaceful… I never noticed it when living alone.”

She sighed. Losing all her magic couldn’t leave her completely unmoved.

Yet why did she feel only a trace of regret? Even that vanished when that annoying Abel showed up.

“Confusing.”

Shea lay down, closing her eyes to rest.

————

Meanwhile, in the living room, Abel opened the letter “Rico” left.

The envelope felt luxurious, the paper faintly floral. The handwriting was elegant—just like Rico’s saintly beauty.

But…

Such lovely script carried biting words.

“As a Radiant Sun Hunter, you’re a target in the clandestine circle. Staying near her only endangers her. Can you even protect her?”

Abel crumpled the paper in his fist, rage simmering.

Yet the truth stung—he hadn’t protected Shea.

But don’t underestimate me!

He calmed his fury. The criticism was valid. From now until he left, no one would touch this Lucky Cat—not even himself.

Or may lightning strike me five times!

A Radiant Sun Hunter’s vow.

Abel steeled himself for Shea’s mission: buy one ice cream.

As he opened the door, a bolt of lightning split the sky—startling Shea in her room.

Abel stared at the willow tree split cleanly down the middle.

…Probably not aimed at me?

Gray appeared ahead, cooler box in hand, greeting him.

“Morning, esteemed Silver.”

Perfect. Abel eyed Gray’s cooler with ill intent.

“Uh… wait, Silver! I’m not into fencing!”

“Relax. Neither am I.”

“But that eager look in your eyes is seriously suspicious!”