The faint sound of wind brushing through the curtains filled the quiet room. Morning light seeped through the half-closed blinds, painting thin streaks of gold across the floor.
Knox sat up slowly, his body still stiff, though the pain had mostly faded. His fingers flexed slightly, testing the response of his muscles — sluggish, but far from weak.
On the other side of the room, Dana leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"So, you can finally sit up," she said, her tone carrying that familiar mix of mockery and interest. "Guess it's time to see if all that talk about you wasn't just hot air."
Knox blinked at her, then glanced down at his hand, the faint trace of mana still flowing beneath his skin. "You want a spar," he said flatly. It wasn't a question.
Dana shrugged. "Call it a test. I just want to see what kind of tricks you've got."
Before Knox could answer, a light chuckle echoed from the corner. Israfill — who had been quietly observing from a chair — stood up, brushing a strand of blue hair away from her face.
"Now, now," she said softly, her voice almost melodic. "He just woke up from being half-dead. Don't you think you're being a bit cruel?"
Dana shot her a look. "He's awake, he's talking, and I don't sense any fractures in his aura. That's good enough."
Israfill sighed. "You're always so quick to swing that temper of yours." She turned her gaze to Knox, her expression gentler now. "How's your body?"
Knox rolled his shoulders, then stood — unsteady at first, but the longer he held his stance, the firmer his footing became. He took a slow breath, then exhaled. "Could be worse."
That was all it took to make Israfill's smile fade into something resembling disbelief. "You can stand already?" she murmured, half-amused, half-astonished.
Knox flexed his hand, testing his mana flow. "Guess I recover fast."
Dana's tone carried the faintest tinge of admiration, though she tried to hide it. "Fast is an understatement."
Israfill rested a finger against her chin, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "At this rate… give it two days, and you might be fully combat-ready."
The air settled again for a moment — until a low, rumbling sound broke the silence.
"…"
"…"
"…"
All three pairs of eyes turned toward its source.
Knox grinned a little wider. "Tee~hee."
For a moment, there was nothing but stunned quiet — then Israfill broke into laughter, soft at first, then genuine and bright.
Dana pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling like she was dealing with a headache.
Israfill smiled, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. "All right, all right. Before our 'White Devil' collapses from hunger, let's feed him." She moved toward the storage cabinet, humming softly.
After a moment, her hum stopped. "Hmm… seems we only have ingredients. No cooked food."
Knox blinked. "Ingredients?"
Israfil glanced over her shoulder. "Flour, dried meat, herbs, eggs — and a few other things. That's about it."
Knox thought for a second, then shrugged casually. "That's enough. I'll handle it."
That got both their attention.
Dana frowned. "You'll what?"
"Cook," Knox said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Israfill stared, then burst into another soft laugh. "You can cook?"
Knox blinked once, then let out a small grin. "Well… if I don't, you two might end up eating mana crystals or something. Can't let that happen, can I?"
Dana's brow twitched. "Excuse me?"
He just shrugged, lips curving into that teasing half-smile. "Relax, Saintess. I promise I won't burn your kitchen down. Probably."
Israfill chuckled, the corners of her lips lifting. "Oh, this I have to see."
Knox spun the ladle in his hand like it was part of a show. "Then, ladies—" he paused dramatically, eyes glinting with mock seriousness, "—prepare your hearts. 'Cause dinner's about to be... legendary~!"
He winked, and before either of them could reply, he sauntered toward the kitchen with an almost exaggerated confidence.
Israfill covered her mouth, shoulders trembling as she tried not to laugh, her blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Well then… this should be interesting." She leaned slightly forward, watching Knox with that calm, expectant look—as if she was genuinely curious to see what he could do.
Dana crossed her arms, a small "Hoo…" escaping her lips. Her tone was flat, but her eyes said otherwise—quietly intrigued. "Now I am curious."
Knox clapped his hands once, turning toward the two Saintesses with an easy smile. "Alright, before I work my kitchen magic— any allergies? Mortal dislikes? Holy restrictions?" His tone was playful, but his eyes were genuinely curious.
Israfill chuckled softly. "No allergies, but… surprise me."
Dana crossed her arms. "I eat anything. Just make it edible."
Knox gasped dramatically, hand over his chest. "Edible? Saintess, that hurts. I was aiming for divine-tier cuisine."
Israfill laughed quietly. "Then I'll expect a miracle."
He grinned. "Perfect. One miracle coming right up."
He turned toward the small kitchen corner. It wasn't much— just a neat counter, some preserved ingredients, and a mana stove built into stone, faintly glowing with blue runes. The hum of dormant magic filled the air as Knox brushed the dust off the rune plate. "Good. Still working."
From the storage, he pulled out dried meat, a sack of rice, and a few eggs that somehow hadn't cracked. "Not bad," he mused. "Looks like the gods don't completely hate me today."
He turned toward the small kitchen space— a compact setup of enchanted cookware, glass jars, and a faintly humming mana stove embedded into the counter. "Let's see what we've got…" He rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out dried meat, eggs, a few herbs, and a jar of rice that looked older than he'd like. "Hmm. Okay, it's not a feast, but I can work with this."
With a casual flick of his wrist, the stove lit up. A soft, circular rune flared to life under the pan, glowing in warm orange patterns that pulsed like a heartbeat. "At least the tech here's still working," Knox murmured, brushing dust off the control dial. "Feels like cooking with a magic circle."
He poured rice into a pot, filling it with water, and stirred gently with a thread of mana, keeping the heat precise.
The knife floated up beside him, spinning lazily in the air. Guided by his will, it sliced the meat into perfect fillets before landing neatly onto a board dusted with flour. Knox dipped each piece into a bowl of beaten egg, the motion fluid, almost rhythmic.
Israfill's blue eyes glimmered with amusement. "You're using telekinesis… to cook?"
Knox turned just enough to flash her a grin. "Multitasking, Saintess. Efficiency's important when you're chasing perfection. Plus, it looks cool, right?~"
The floured meat slid into the pan, sizzling as golden oil bubbled around it. He adjusted the flame with a slight wave, keeping the color perfectly even. The aroma filled the room— buttery, crisp, mouthwatering.
Meanwhile, the cooked rice floated into another pan, mixed with diced herbs and a splash of sauce Knox improvised from crushed fruit and a bit of broth. The scent deepened, warm and savory.
Finally, he cracked two eggs into a bowl, whisked them lightly, and poured them into a smaller pan.
He swirled the pan gently, forming a soft omelet, edges trembling as mana heat controlled every degree of warmth. Then, with one smooth motion, he lifted it— fluffy, half-cooked inside— and laid it carefully over the rice.
He grabbed a small knife, slid it through the center of the omelet— and the golden egg gently parted, spilling over the rice in a silky, molten fold. The steam rose like a soft sigh.
Dana let out a quiet "Hoo…"— a rare sound of genuine interest.
Israfill clasped her hands together, eyes gleaming with delight. "That's beautiful."
Knox rested the knife on his shoulder and smirked. "If it's too salty, just pretend it's divine seasoning."
Israfill laughed softly. "You really have a way with words, Knox."
Dana muttered, "That's not how divine works."
He grinned, unbothered. "Then let's call it faith-based flavoring."
As he plated the katsu beside the omurice, the crispy coating gleamed under the warm light. The aroma was rich, balanced between buttery rice and savory herbs. Knox wiped his hands on a towel, glancing back at the two saintesses. "Alright, moment of truth— divinity or black magic?"