Seeing Ophelia was equally clueless, a cold knot tightened in Nefu’s chest. Blackfang must be in trouble.

“Um… Master, shall we go look?”

“Alright…”

Ophelia nodded, worry etched across her face. Nefu studied her a few seconds longer—nothing seemed off.

“Ah, little Nefu, why stare? Finally noticed your master’s a total beauty, huh?”

Forcing a weak chuckle, Nefu stepped forward and took Ophelia’s hand, her expression radiating frantic anxiety.

“There, there—I know you’re worried. Don’t fret. Blackfang will be fine.”

*It had better be.* Though soothed by the words, Nefu already felt a faint dread: Blackfang wasn’t coming back.

Head down, she pressed ahead, senses stretched wide. Ophelia followed close behind, tension tight on her face.

Blackfang was a monster beast, high in the labyrinth’s food chain—but against a higher-tier Bear-Owl, even it became mere prey.

A trace of worry flickered in Nefu. True, Blackfang had shown recent defiance… but it was still *her* subordinate. If death came, it should be by *her* hand.

Just then, Ophelia spoke softly:

“Found it.”

“Found it?”

Nefu snapped her head up. Ophelia’s brow was deeply furrowed.

A chill slithered down her spine.

“Master… has something happened?”

Nefu’s perception range fell short of where Ophelia had sensed.

“Little Nefu… brace yourself.”

They crept closer. Moments later—a Bear-Owl gnawing Blackfang’s remains on the ground. No doubt remained: Blackfang had fallen to its claws.

“Stay here. I’ll avenge your little pet.”

Ophelia murmured, then conjured a blazing flame spear. In a flash—it pierced the Bear-Owl’s chest.

Threat gone. Nefu rushed forward. At the sight of Blackfang’s mangled form, a choked cry escaped her:

“No… Blackfang!”

His death meant little to her—but she *had* to feign grief. Betray her persona, and Ophelia would notice.

Using sorrow as cover, she glanced at the wounds. Her breath hitched sharply.

“Ah, don’t be too sad, little one.”

Ophelia gently squeezed her shoulder, voice tender. “Let’s go back. This place isn’t safe.”

“Mm…”

…

*Could Blackfang really be gone just like that?*

Nefu stared blankly at the corner where he used to curl up. Outwardly dazed—but inside, replaying every detail.

The door opened. Ophelia entered. In an instant, Nefu’s face crumpled. Voice trembling:

“M-Master… Blackfang… he’s gone…”

“I’m sorry, Nefu. You must be heartbroken.”

Ophelia pulled her into a tight hug, sorrow thick in her tone. Feeling Nefu tremble, she added regretfully:

“If only I hadn’t rushed back after the hunt… he might not have been left alone. Not fallen to the Bear-Owl.”

What she didn’t see: Nefu’s face buried in her shoulder, expression icy-cold.

*You say you left him alone… but—*

How could agile Blackfang leave zero signs of struggle?

Why did the milk in his mouth taste strangely sweet?

Why was the single fatal wound so unnaturally clean—no Bear-Owl’s claws could make that.

Nefu knew Ophelia held all the answers. But one line from their walk home froze her tongue:

“There, there, little Nefu. Just a pet dog. I’ll buy you an identical one, okay?”

*So Blackfang was replaceable… What about me?*

*Am I just her little pet too?*

*Will I be discarded the moment she tires of me?*

*No.*

Nefu took a sharp breath and sat on her bed.

“Still upset, little one? You look pale. I’ll make you a midnight snack.”

Ophelia left. Nefu shook her head hard. *Maybe it really was an ambush. As long as I stay hidden… she won’t replace me. Don’t spiral.*

Alone, she slipped a small bottle from her maid dress—the one that held Blackfang’s milk. She’d pocketed it while carrying Ophelia’s pack.

If Ophelia poisoned him, traces would remain. The Adventurers Guild’s Potion Division could test it.

Footsteps neared. Nefu hid the bottle. *Stop overthinking. Tomorrow brings answers…*

“Thank you for the snack, Master…”

***

Next morning, high-ranking Guild members summoned Ophelia to a meeting. Pouting but obedient, she left—giving Nefu her chance.

Nefu leaped from the window, altered her appearance slightly, clutched the bottle, and hurried straight to the Adventurers Guild. Ignoring curious stares, she marched to the Potion Division counter.

“Hello, miss. How can I help?” a staff member asked.

“Um… could you check if any magic potion residue remains in this bottle?” Nefu’s voice trembled as she handed it over.

“Of course. I’ll consult an alchemist.”

The staffer vanished into the workshop. Nefu waited, pulse racing.

Not long after, footsteps returned.

“Well? Any results?”