"Wow. That's some really nice marble. Where did you get this meat, Glenn?" Emily Miller rubbed her chin in wonder as she inspected the thick slab of meat her son had just slammed on the kitchen counter.

  "An overgrown lizard. You saw his skull in the entry hall." Glenn sharpened his knife, a ravenous expression on his face. Nelg scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. Emily paused and gave the meat a second look.

  "Wait, what?"

  Glenn clapped his hands together, eager to change the subject. "It doesn't matter, mom. Now, err, I barely remember the recipe, so..."

  Emily grunted. "Of course you don't. You never did. Always calling me to make sure you didn't mess up the proportions. Seriously, what's so hard about making fried chicken?"

  Nelg glanced at Glenn, sending him an anxious mental message. "This is too weird! I feel like a fish in the desert!"

  Glenn ignored his doppelganger for an instant and grabbed his mother's shoulders. "Well, you know me. I would rather make sure to get it perfect instead of ruining the, uh, legendary recipe of the equally mythical Emily Miller!"

  She shook her head with a sigh and rolled up her sleeves. Emily glanced at Nelg for an instant, pondering. She looked him up and down, grimacing.

  "Do you have to keep that shiny armor of yours all the time? Can't say it'll be pleasant cooking in this tin can."

  Nelg looked at his glimmering armor, embarrassed. "S- Sorry, I never tried to take it off. It's... part of me."

  Emily frowned. "Suit yourself. But you better find a way to sanitize these gauntlets. I don't give a shit we're in a somewhat medieval world, no bacteria will be making it into my food, understood?"

  Glenn and Nelg shivered and replied at the same time. "Yes, M'am!" They exchanged a disbelieving glance and smiled. Emily clenched her teeth and turned to the meat.

  “This is going to take some getting used to. All right, Glenn, you know what to do. And as I understand it, so do you, Nelg."

  The two nodded in unison. Glenn rolled up his sleeves and conjured an Aqua Mundare that Nelg used to scrub clean his gauntlets.

  "I'll do the coating, you're fine with marinade?" Nelg asked as he grabbed a few ingredients from the kitchen's cupboard. Flour, cornstarch, paprika, garlic and onion powder, cayenne, black pepper, salt, thyme, and something called the dragon's breath chili powder, which should theoretically be nice for those extra-spicy pieces.

  Glenn smirked as he dexterously mixed buttermilk and hot sauce in a large bowl. "I am the one and only marinade Master! Of course I'm fine with it. Mom, you done with the meat yet—"

  Emily glared at her son as she pushed the cupboard covered in perfectly cut pieces of meat. Glenn shrugged and submerged the dragon meat, suddenly pausing.

  "Oh, shit, I forgot we needed to let the meat marinate. Uhh...whatever." His Mana suddenly surged up, surprising both Nelg and Emily.

  "Glenn, what the hell are you doing?! You better not ruin this perfectly fine meat or I'll—" Emily's jaw dropped as a bubble surrounded the preparation. The buttermilk and spices were instantly forced into the dragon meat.

  "Haha, I am the sole inventor of the magical cooking vacuum," exclaimed Glenn victoriously. "Waiting is for losers!"

  Emily rubbed her forehead before sighing in resignation. "...I won't even bother trying to understand it. Nelg, take care of the next step while I prepare the sides. Glenn, you better not tell me you forgot about homemade mayonnaise or I'll kill you."

  "That's the one thing I can't forget even if I wanted to, heh!"

  The three of them spent half an hour in the kitchen, bantering and frying chicken dragon. Over time, Nelg's awkwardness faded, giving way to the simple joy of working in the kitchen with Glenn and Emily.

  "I'll tell the others it's ready." Glenn cleaned his hands off with an Aqua Mundare and opened his mouth to add something, only to restrain himself. He glanced at Nelg and his mother and turned away, shrugging. Emily and Nelg exchanged an awkward look, unsure of what to say.

  "Emily, I—"

  "Don't call me by my name," snapped Emily. "This is ridiculous." She rested her hands on her waist, resolving herself. "Listen, I have to admit it's a little hard for me, seeing a twin I didn't birth..."

  Nelg's heart tightened and he bit on his lip. The situation made sense to him, but he still felt uncomfortable—no, he hurt. But Emily wasn't done.

  "...But I'll get used to it. This is a world of nonsense and magic, after all. As far as I'm concerned, you're a copy of the brat that came out of my belly twenty-two years ago. So you might as well call me mother, alright?"

  Nelg's cheeks reddened as he nodded shyly. At that moment, he felt himself getting detached a little more from Glenn. Becoming his own person. Emily smiled softly and pulled him into a hug. Nelg let himself go without resistance, a strange sensation birthing in his chest.

  It was one thing to experience love in Glenn's memories, and another to feel it in reality.

  Nelg awkwardly pulled himself away emotionally. "S-Sorry, but I think it's going to take me a little while too to get used to it."

  Emily patted him on the shoulder. "It's fine. One step at a time."

  Nelg gave her an unassuming smile.

  'Nelg, where the hell are you guys?' Glenn's mental voice snapped him out of his trance and he grabbed the two platters of food, one filled with fried dragon and the other with vegetable rissole.

  "They're waiting for us," he said before quickly running away from the kitchen. Emily wiped her hands on her apron, chuckling dejectedly.

  "It's going to get hard before it gets easier..." she muttered. With one last shake of her head, she grabbed the homemade sauces and joined up with the others.

  ***

  "Glenn, tell your baby dragon to get out of my plate!" Sahro bellowed as he grabbed Pebble and threw him to the other side of the room. The one-eyed creature happily flew through the air while munching on stolen fried dragon.

  'Could this be considered cannibalism?' Glenn thought absently as he took one large swig of soda freshly created using the magic mini-fridge—another thing that made his mother's jaw drop to the floor.

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  'Young Pebble began his life as a rock, so technically he isn't a dragon. And, to add to injury, if you believe Gundam's words, that thing you killed wasn't a dragon, just an overgrown lizard with wings.' Diamanes' remark was enough to make Glenn turn away, just in time to see Raijin run away with a piece of chicken in his mouth, proudly bringing it to its master. Whitey was excitedly chattering while peckering in Liara's plate. The Black Heiress was petting the small bird absently, her eyes going back and forth between Sahro, Raijin and Whitey.

  Janica and Liam were devouring as much food as they could while also scribbling on a large piece of blueprint excitedly. Lina was recounting everything she experienced ever since she woke up in Limbo to her mother, who was listening with wide opened eyes worry. More than once did Emily look at Glenn in disbelief, only to catch herself and focus back on her daughter's words.

  Tuleam, as usual, was just shoving mountains of food in his mouth without a care in the world. The scientist had shut himself in his room the moment Lucian left on his flying ship, and had only come out now for dinner. His seaweed-hair was more disheveled than ever and the black circles under his eyes were only growing larger.

  Glenn could have enjoyed this moment perfectly if there wasn't one singular issue.

  'Where the hell is Milena?' He blinked, casting Mana Sight to check the manor in and out. Becoming an Archmagi had its perks, and an enhancement to his Mana Sight was one of those.

  'She isn't in the manor nor anywhere close... Strange.' He scratched his chin, pondering. 'I thought she would have been back by now. We stayed at the hospital for what, half a dozen hours? Knowing her, she would have been spending her time relaxing in a hot bath or something.'

  "Liara, do you know where Milena is?" Glenn said softly to the Black Heiress, careful not to let his worries show through. Liara grabbed Pebble by the back of the neck and gently pulled him away from her plate before shaking her head negatively.

  'Heh, maybe she got tired of being in mortal danger and went back to hiding in some hole, like when you found her in that tavern!'

  Glenn ignored Diamanes' mockeries and took a deep breath. 'She's probably fine. It's a little strange, but nothing worrying. Let's just enjoy the meal.'

  The evening passed peacefully. Everyone finished the meal. No waste in the Miller's house, as Emily said to conclude the dinner. Glenn quietly cleaned up the table, as plates, forks and knives floated away in waiting, already cleaned by an expert Aqua Mundare. The table was soon subjected to the same treatment. Pebble gnawed on a bone Sahro had thrown at him. The dragon had been pestering everyone at the table during the entire meal, but none really minded.

  Glenn sat on the table, strangely worried. 'It's weird. I have this really bad feeling that something is about to start again. What the hell is Milena up to?'

  Diamanes grumbled in annoyance. "Oh no, not the 'I got a bad feeling about this'! Hey, why don't you precipitate whatever crisis is next so we can be done with all this normal life stuff?"

  "Diamanes, I feel like I'm repeating myself, but we're just back from the most harrowing experience of our lives." Glenn paused and pressed his lips together. "...Well, not the most harrowing, but you got my point."

  "You had more than enough rest on that boring flying boat. Hey, I got an idea! Why don't you defy Exan in a duel? Or Harriet? I'm sure they would both accept!"

  Glenn dusted his hands off and walked to his room. "That's certainly an idea I can get behind. Maybe that'll give me some hints on how to get to the next level without having to risk my life. And I do have a few questions I'd like to ask Exan..."

  "That's the spirit! And while you're at it, why don't you ask Lucian to present the King to you, so you and him can have a bout too? I know, just take the King's throne! That's genius, isn't it?"

  "...Now you're starting to make a lot less sense, Diamanes."

  "Tch. At least I tried."

  ***

  Milena stood in the lavish waiting room, her back trembling as her robotic arms tried and failed to surge out. She glanced at the double doors covered in overly decorated gold and silver filigree, pleasantly surprised.

  Many times she waited before those doors. Every time her mother would call her, it would be to this place, where she would be forced to endure a long, insufferable waiting time aimed at irritating and weakening her will. To grow her anxiousness and make her restless.

  "Power is not only what you have but what the enemy thinks you have," muttered Milena. Another quote she stole from her grandfather. He and her dad were the only ones she could truly appreciate in this snake nest. Her mother was from a noble, aristocratic family, part of the highest circles of the Court. The House of Sorenas was one of the oldest families in Munirp, but was also far from the most renowned in reality. Powerful ancestors, who died hundreds of years ago serving in some nameless war, brought them fame. The secret techniques and spells of said ancestors accompanied them in their graves, and none of their descendants estimated it worthwhile to try to reach their heights.

  The House of Sorenas was, and still is, all for enjoying the good life under the guise of a Marquis title. They were also incredibly proficient at marrying their children to other powerful families, strengthening their position as one of the strongest yet most useless Houses of Munirp. At least, that's what Milena thought of her mother's house. Compared to her father's house, the Dela Luna, the Sorenas are nothing but scum groveling at her father and grandfather's feet.

  'Calm down,' she thought. Today, for the very first time, she didn't feel the usual fear. The anxiousness and worry about having done something wrong, about being the 'shame' of the family, or to have failed in whatever scheme her mother's concocted for her. No, today, she simply felt annoyed.

  'I should have been celebrating with the others at yet another impossible feat of survival, but no.' Milena looked at her hands. They were once delicate, like expected from a noble woman. Now, they were covered in scars and scabs, thick calluses created from arduous training with her twin daggers. A few small scars also decorated her face, giving her a more battle-worn look.

  Milena chuckled silently as she clenched her fists shut. Before she met Glenn, her only objective was to survive that stupid, traditional Test that only idiotic families such as her mother's would force their children to complete. Now, everything was different. Her Mana pulsed out, scanning everything in the room and unveiling the poorly hidden guards in the corners.

  'I'm an Expert Magi, and I don't feel like the Sixth Circle is that far out of reach. If I just push a little harder, fight a little more, maybe...' Her thoughts were interrupted when the twin doors flung open.

  "Come in." A cold voice called out to her, dry and unwelcoming. Milena stepped inside her mother's luxurious room, her anger dissipating and unnatural calm taking over. That same sensation she felt when fighting Stormblade, or when searching for a solution to escape the spatial domain.

  'Here goes nothing.'

  "Milena Dela Luna Sorenas, I have heard of your... feats."

  Milena cracked her neck, staring down at her mother. It had been years since the last time she had seen the wench, and she would have rather kept it that way. She was a woman of unusual beauty, with light blue eyes and washed out black hair styled in a bob cut. Strands of gray mixed with the black, contrasting with the absurd quantity of make-up hiding her wrinkles and other signs of aging. Milena almost laughed out loud at the sight.

  'That's who I was scared of?'

  In a rare, deliberate choice, her mother had 'chosen' to not bother learning magic or Aura, instead relying on her House's bannerets for any military issues. Not that the Sorenas house was very influential in said field.

  "Mother." Milena almost spat the word, disgusted to even pronounce it.

  "It is Marquess Sorenas for you, girl." Her mother's eyes dripped with hatred as she slammed her hands on the desk. Before, Milena would have flinched and shied away, but not anymore. Milena crossed her arms and raised a mocking eyebrow, a trick she learned from observing Glenn.

  "Sure, Marquess. What do you want?"

  The Marquess' jaw almost dropped out of shock. She took a few seconds to gather herself, stammering. "Y-You! This is no way to speak to your mother—!"

  "But I thought you wanted me to call you by your proper title?" Milena made a perfect, gracious bow. "My apologies."

  The Marquess stared at Milena in disbelief. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and cleared out her throat, still awed. "Cough, anyway, I decided to meet you here to tell you that your duty is done. Excellent work."

  Milena frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  Marquess Sorenas blinked. "But of course, the Test! Don't tell me you forgot about the very reason I—we sent you mingling with the scum and peasants?"

  Milena paused, her heart missing a beat. "Wait, no—"

  The Marquess continued, oblivious or simply choosing to ignore her daughter. "You're returning to the Court with me, Milena."

  "It's over."