By the time Klaus reached home, the sun was already leaning west, washing the yard in warm amber light.
He paused at the wooden gate. He heard commotions at his frontyard.
A small stone golem—no taller than Lily's chest—was dutifully digging neat, evenly spaced holes along a freshly arranged flower bed. Its arms moved with stiff precision, scooping dirt and placing it into a tidy pile. Lily followed behind it, giggling as she dropped flower seeds into each hole like she was feeding birds.
"Careful, Lily," Daisy said gently, crouched nearby with a watering can. She moved with practiced grace, covering each seed with soil before sprinkling water just enough not to flood them. "They need air too."
"I know!" Lily chirped. "That's why Jelly digs shallow!"
The golem froze.
Its head rotated with a faint grinding sound, rocky limbs shifting into a rigid, defensive stance.
Klaus raised a brow. "Hmm…highly alert little thing."
"Jelly?" Lily tilted her head. "What's wrong?"
She followed its gaze, spotted Klaus—and immediately dropped the seed pouch.
"Big brother!" she squealed, sprinting toward him.
The golem hurried after her, one arm hovering behind her back like it was ready to catch her at any second.
Daisy wiped her hands on her tunic's hem first, then followed at a calmer pace. "Welcome home, Mr. Klaus."
Lily skidded to a stop in front of him. "Look! She's Jelly! She's my pet!"
Klaus glanced at the golem. "She? Are you sure it wasn't he? And why did you name this hard rock Jelly?"
Lily shook her head seriously. "She is she, and she tastes like jelly."
"…You tasted it?"
Daisy cleared her throat. "Lily accidentally licked it earlier. Jelly was holding a plate of actual jelly when she dropped a portion on its arm."
Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I see. Next time, don't taste anything unfamiliar. Even rocks."
"Okay!" Lily saluted.
Klaus looked toward the sky. Dusk was creeping in. "Finish planting first. I'll eat later. Call me when it's ready."
Daisy bowed lightly and guided Lily back to the flower bed. Klaus headed inside, changed clothes—and noticed a folded paper on his table.
Not his.
He opened it.
One word, carved deep and bold.
TRAP.
Klaus smiled. "So they've started moving."
He flicked it out the window. The paper ignited midair, turning to ash as it touched the orange sunlight.
**
The next morning passed quietly—training, explanations, gentle corrections. Klaus even took them hunting low-level beasts, until Lily hid behind Jelly and refused to move.
Just beyond the town's western gate, low-level beasts stirred in the brush—horned hares and mud-scaled lizards, more nuisance than threat. Klaus slowed his pace, letting Daisy and Lily stay close while Jelly trundled behind them.
The first lizard charged.
"Jelly!" Lily cried.
The golem stepped in front of her, stone limbs braced. The impact knocked the beast aside, but another lunged from the flank. Before Klaus moved, Daisy raised her hands.
"Gaia's Grace."
Soft green light wrapped around Jelly and brushed Lily's shoulders. The golem's stone hardened; Lily steadied, breathing easier.
Roots rose from the soil, tangling the horned hare's legs. Nearby branches bent inward, guided by Lily's trembling focus. The beast squealed.
Lily froze. "Stop… please."
The roots loosened instantly.
Klaus ended the fight with a clean, quick shot. Remaining beasts returned to the woods.
Lily stared at the fallen beasts, shaken. "Do we have to kill them?"
She didn't notice the status notification chimed as they leveled up, her focus remained to the corpse lying in the ground.
Daisy knelt beside her, soothing and calm. Klaus glanced at the sun—still before noon.
"Please, no more killing," Lily begged. "And Jelly might get hurt."
"Ok. That's enough for today," he said. "We're done."
As they turned back, he noted it quietly: Daisy was pure support—healing and empowerment. Lily, a summoner tied to earth and trees… powerful, but unwilling to kill.
By afternoon, he focused on preparation—materializing bullets, embedding traps, storing everything back into his Mindforger—until Lily called him for dinner.
At the table, Klaus slid six gold coins across.
"I'll be out of town for a few days."
Daisy nodded. Lily smiled. "Come back safe, big brother." Klaus just nodded.
***
In an unknown location.
A dimly lit room breathed indulgence. Incense smoldered faintly near the walls, its sweetness barely masking the sharper scent of wine. Shadows stretched long across the polished floor, broken only by the pale moonlight spilling through a lattice window.
The woman reclined on the wooden couch as though gravity itself was optional. She tilted her glass, studying the hooded man from behind the rim.
"Could you move back a little?" she purred. "You're dirtying my Cebrian tiger-hide rug."
"You know," she continued lazily, "that rug cost more than your life. Possibly twice."
The man stiffened. "My apologies, my lady. I believed I was—"
"Far enough?" she finished, amused. "You believed wrong."
He glanced down again, swallowed, and retreated another step. The tiger-hide rug seemed to loom larger now, its glassy eyes stitched with unsettling realism.
She tapped her finger against the couch. Once. He froze.
"Now," she said, voice smooth as silk, "report."
"The de Vedre boy received your message," he said. "Personally."
Her brow lifted slightly. "And he didn't panic?"
"No, my lady. He…he only smiled."
That earned a soft laugh. "Of course he did." She leaned forward just enough for the moonlight to catch her lips. "Indifferent men are always the most interesting men."
"He will still go," the man added quickly. "To the Duke's trap."
"That's quite new," she took a slow sip. "Klaus de Vedre, the slouching cat. Always hide from danger." A pause. "Now, he goes to a trap head on."
The man hesitated. "Should we… adjust the plan and send him a reinforcement?"
Her gaze snapped to him—sharp now, predatory. "Did I ask for your opinion?"
He bowed deeply. "No, my lady."
"Good." She waved a hand. "Disappear. If I need you, you'll know."
The shadows swallowed him whole.
Almost immediately, a presence bloomed behind the couch—disciplined, restrained. The woman didn't turn. "Is there a problem, Blade?"
"Apologies, My Lady," came the flat reply. "Young Miss is asking for you. She's waiting in the west wing hall. She seems… impatient."
"She always is." The woman set her glass down with a soft clink. "Give me a minute. I won't greet my sister smelling like wine and boredom."
Blade hesitated. "About the de Vedre—"
"Let him dance," the woman interrupted, rising to her feet. Silk slid from her shoulders, pooling at her ankles as moonlight carved her silhouette in silver. "Men like him need obstacles. Otherwise, they get dull."
Blade vanished.
The woman lifted her glass one last time, eyes glittering toward the window. Her smile was slow, dangerous.
"Come then, Klaus de Vedre," she whispered. "Entertain me. And don't disappoint—I'm in a cruel mood tonight."