Episode 19
Lindsay reached the little log house at the top and folded up her umbrella, slotting it into the stand.
She peeked back into the passage to check if Lionel was making it up okay.
Sure enough, his light-green umbrella glowed as it rose through the dark tunnel.
The tip poked out first, then Lionel came along with it.
Watching him float up, Lindsay suddenly thought of that old anime—he looked like that magical girl with balloons.
Except he had an umbrella, and he was a guy.
Still, it didn’t feel weird at all.
Somehow, everything suited him.
Setting his feet on the wooden floor, Lionel held out the hand that had been gripping the umbrella and spoke in a playful voice.
“My hand hurts from holding on so tight. Can’t you just let me use teleportation magic instead?”
Lindsay’s eyes widened when she looked at his palm. It was red and sore, with marks pressed deep across it.
Seriously? Just from holding on like that? Humans were really fragile.
Was I this weak, too, back when I was human?
Comparing herself to him, she realized just how tough she’d become as a witch—especially one as strong as her.
She nodded gravely.
“Fine. Just for today. I’ll fix the barrier later.”
“Thank you, Witch.”
“No, I should be the one sorry. You’re my first guest, I didn’t even think about inconveniences like that.”
Thanks to him, she realized her “elevator” system had a serious flaw.
If someone let go of the umbrella, there was no backup plan—they’d just free-fall. Basically, a death trap.
She pulled a healing potion from her subspace and poured it generously over his palm.
The angry red marks faded, and the skin back to normal.
Lionel flexed his hand, then smiled brightly.
“Thanks. It doesn’t hurt at all now.”
“Anyway, the barrier only reacts to detection or teleportation spells, so you can use other stuff. If you feel like you’re falling, cast strength enhancement or levitation.”
She was dead serious—she didn’t want a great mage dying in her house just because of weak muscles.
Lionel beamed even wider, touched by her concern.
“Of course. So… should we go eat the dinner you prepared?”
“Follow me. It’s outside.”
“Outside?”
“Mm-hm.”
He looked surprised, but Lindsay, looking excited for once, nodded.
She practically skipped to the door, eager to show him what she had ready.
“Just wait. This is something you can only see here in the Molten Mountains.”
She turned the knob, and golden sunset light flooded the room like autumn leaves.
Lionel’s lips parted slightly in awe.
He stepped slowly outside, like someone seeing the birth of a star—then stopped, as if going any closer would be sacrilege.
“You like it that much?”
Satisfied, Lindsay turned her gaze to the fiery horizon behind him.
From the mountaintop, the view was endlessly breathtaking.
The sun dipped along the ridges, painting the sky in red and orange.
Mountains glowed in warm gold, and the air itself felt softer.
They stood there in silence, as if time had frozen, watching the sunset deepen into richer and richer colors.
Then the sun vanished completely, and the night curtain dropped—moon and stars twinkling above.
Lindsay finally led the dazed Lionel to the dining spot she had prepared.
On the mountaintop, a campfire was already crackling.
A wooden table stood nearby, neatly set with food.
There was seared meat, vegetables ready for grilling, a steaming earthen pot of egg custard, and even bottles of liquor.
“What is all this?”
Lionel sat down almost automatically, still looking oddly flustered.
“It’s a barbecue party, duh. You just sit there and eat.”
The meat? Someone else would handle that.
Shadows borrowed from Nero began tending the fire and flipping the meat.
Lindsay poured liquor into Lionel’s cup, the liquid trickling softly.
“It’s low-alcohol, but if you can’t drink, don’t force it. It’d be a pain to drag you home.”
“You could just take me to your house.”
“And why the hell would I take you there? Stop talking nonsense and drink.”
She filled her own cup, lifted it high.
Lionel just held his awkwardly.
“Don’t you know how to toast? Like this. When someone raises their glass, it means cheers.”
“I wouldn’t know. Nobody’s ever toasted with me before.”
“…That’s kind of sad. You should take better care of your subordinates, you know. If you don’t want them talking crap behind your back.”
Of course, bosses always got bad-mouthed—but still.
Lindsay downed a cup, then immediately poured another and drank it too.
She probably looked like one of those nagging old managers at a company dinner, but who cared? She was old enough, and Lionel was just a green kid anyway.
She pointed at the egg custard.
“Have some while the meat’s cooking.”
“Do I just… scoop it?”
“Want me to dish it out for you?”
She reached for an extra plate—she understood if he didn’t want to share directly from the pot.
But Lionel stopped her hand.
“Sharing food isn’t a big deal. I just didn’t know how to eat it since it’s new to me.”
Hah… if someone heard this, they’d think we were close or something.
She watched him take a big spoonful, frowning faintly.
Just then, the shadows set the grilled meat onto the plates.
Lindsay tried a bite, and her eyes lit up.
She gave the shadows a thumbs-up.
They melted a bit like goo, then got even more fired up, grilling with enthusiasm.
Compliments were their weakness.
“This pork is amazing. Must be because it’s from a Flower-Fragrance Pig. Go on, eat. You worked the hardest today.”
Lionel popped a piece into his mouth.
His eyes went round.
“What is this pig? How can it taste like this?”
“It’s a rare breed raised only by a southern tribal clan. And wait till you see how it looks—craziest thing.”
She animatedly told him about the pigs with flowers tucked behind their ears, and how the tribe decorated them.
Lionel listened quietly, smiling softly, then murmured, “I think I’d like traveling with you.”
“What? Speak up, I didn’t hear a word.”
“I said the meat is good.”
“Right? Even Nero loves it. I asked him to join us, but he said he had other business.”
“Other business?”
“That’s what he said!”
Right now, the cat was circling Yuri Ohara, spreading misfortune.
Lindsay wouldn’t learn that until later.
She narrowed her eyes at Lionel’s sly little smile.
“Why do you look like you know something?”
“Me? About what?”
“That cat.”
“How would I know anything about that cat?”
“…True enough.”
Still, she couldn’t shake her suspicion.
She downed another glass of red liquor instead.
The warm burn loosened her tongue, steering the topic away from the cat.
“So, how long are you planning on sticking with me?”
Lionel froze, his expression hardening.