Ninya was restless.
Inside the small rented room where he lived, he paced in circles again and again, hands clasped behind his back, face stiff with tension. He kept performing little finger-point checks while waiting for his guest.
Tea prepared — check.
Sweets arranged — check.
Room cleaned to the best of his ability — check… or so he wanted to believe.
The bell announcing noon had rung a while ago, yet Ninya kept fidgeting anxiously. Despite checking his appearance in the hand mirror countless times, he couldn't stop worrying whether he looked strange today.
After all…
the person he admired — now the heroic face of all E-Rantel — Momon, was coming to his home.
This wasn't the first time. Today made it the third.
(Momon-san is always so friendly, but I still can't get used to it…
Someone so strong and so beautiful… no, get a hold of yourself, Celricia! Momon-san doesn't want me treating her like that. She called us comrades. If I act too nervous or grovel too much, that'll just— )
"Excuse me for intruding, Ninya-san."
"Hyah—!"
Ninya squeaked automatically.
Whirling around, he found Momonga already inside his room, grinning smugly as if to say got you again.
"Y-You startled me…"
"I always try my best to startle you, Ninya-san."
"Please… could you do something about how you appear like that, Momon-san…?"
His heart was pounding painfully.
He let out a long, heavy sigh.
This was the usual time, just past noon on the day they agreed to meet.
Momon teleported into his house using a magic item — or so the public story went. One might think she could simply walk to his home or the Golden Glow Inn openly. But on the surface, they were a man and a woman meeting privately. If people saw them together so often, alone, rumors would inevitably bloom: secret rendezvous, romantic trysts, whispered scandal.
Thus — teleportation.
And Momon always appeared silently behind him and greeted him from his blind spot.
This was routine for their agreed-upon study days…
and every time, Ninya reacted like this.
Momon seemed pleased with her prank's success again, wearing a mischievous smile — a side of the hero Ninya secretly adored. So reliable in armor with sword in hand, yet so girlish and playful in private clothing.
(She's beautiful again today… Momon-san…)
Her pure, elegant outfit suited her perfectly.
When she dressed like this, Ninya truly couldn't see her as a warrior at all.
Her appearance was that of a sheltered noble lady — too lovely for his shabby room. He always felt embarrassed inviting such a woman inside.
"Thank you for having me today as well, Ninya-sensei."
The beauty dipped her head with a sweet smile — another of their familiar rituals.
On the small table lay scattered papers, pens, and several books.
Momon, quill in hand, glided across sheets of paper while staring intently at her notes.
Line after line appeared in the writing system used by the surrounding nations. From single vocabulary items to simple example sentences, she wrote them flawlessly without hesitation or mistakes.
(Every time… she amazes me…)
Watching beside her, Ninya could only marvel.
A week ago, Momon had asked him: "Please teach me how to read and write."
Of course he accepted.
Why Ninya?
Compared to the rest of the Swords of Darkness, he seemed the most educated — the most suitable teacher.
And besides… Momon just didn't feel the slightest "male" presence from him.
With Lukrut, it would be unbearable.
With Peter or Dyne — they were good men, but misunderstandings could easily arise.
But Ninya?
Somehow, Momon instinctively felt none of that would ever happen.
—She had not realized Ninya's true gender, hidden even from Albedo's eyes.
It was likely the female body's instincts guiding her.
Thus, their relationship began quietly and calmly.
Because of these private lessons, Momon might now feel the closest to two people:
first place, Nemu;
second place, Ninya.
"In this structure, this word changes to this, right, Ninya-sensei?"
"Yes — impressive. I only taught you that a moment ago. And please, stop calling me 'sensei'… There's so little left I can even teach you…"
"Hehe."
Momon brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with slender fingers, and Ninya exhaled softly.
Teaching someone literacy from scratch was extremely difficult — not only for the learner but for the teacher as well. Ninya had agonized at first over how to even begin.
Yet Momon surpassed every hurdle effortlessly.
By the third day, she had already mastered almost all commonly used characters.
Her learning speed was terrifying.
This wasn't Momon's personal intellect — it was the effect of Albedo's body.
A mind designed as Nazarick's greatest intelligence absorbed knowledge like a sponge.
No repetition needed; once she understood something, it stored itself neatly and permanently in her brain.
For the first time in her life, studying was genuinely fun.
(With this body, I could probably cram for one week and pass the entrance exam of the hardest university in Japan…)
She even imagined sitting in class, listening with delight to her former guildmate Dead Beast Heavenly Suzaku's lectures — things she never understood back then.
(Even the stuff Suzaku-san explained that made no sense to me at the time… I bet I'd enjoy it now…)
Yet her pace never slowed.
Momon continued writing, occasionally asking Ninya for guidance — two hours passed in what felt like moments, thanks to her unnatural concentration and undead-like time sense.
"Thank you again today, Ninya-san. You've helped me so much. To think I can already read and write this region's language this well… it's all because of you."
"N-No, no… I only sit behind you and nibble on the sweets you bring. I'm hardly doing anything…"
"That's not true. Without you, I might have memorized things incorrectly. Truly, thank you."
She bowed deeply.
Ninya refused any compensation — so at the very least, Momon wanted to express her gratitude.
"Momon-san, please lift your head. I'm just… so happy to be of help. And you mustn't bow your head so cheaply — not a hero like you."
"…Ninya-san…"
His eyes were sincere.
Accepting that earnest gaze, Momon thanked him again — this time without bowing — and with Ninya's warm smile, the lesson came to an end.
Momon teleported back to the Golden Glow Inn and magically donned her usual darkness armor.
She still had two more errands today.
"Welcome— ah! Momon-san!"
"Long time no see, Nfirea-san."
Recognizing her, Nfirea rushed over like a hatchling spotting its parent. The faint herbal scent lingering from his apron stirred nostalgia in Momon.
She smiled gently inside her helmet.
"It seemed about time, so I came to pick up the item. Is it finished?"
"Ah— yes, somehow… it took shape. Please wait, I'll bring it right away!"
The item.
He knew exactly what she meant.
He hurried to the back and returned within ten seconds.
"Thank you for waiting, Momon-san. Here it is."
He presented a small box.
Inside, nestled in plenty of cushioning, were two tiny potion vials.
"May I take one?"
"Of course!"
"…Magnificent."
Momon whispered it sincerely.
Inside the vial, a pale green liquid glowed faintly — flickering like fireflies.
It was a potion extracted from the miraculous moss growing on Zy'tl Q'ae — the herb said to "cure any illness."
"My grandmother and I… call this the Master Potion."
"The Master Potion… yes, fitting."
Casting Greater Item Appraisal, text streamed into her mind:
"Instantly and perfectly cures all bad status ailments."
It couldn't restore HP or MP — but in this flesh-and-blood world, that hardly mattered.
A potion with perfect, universal status ailment removal didn't exist even in Yggdrasil.
(Only two of these in the world… the value is enormous.
Curses requiring long rituals to dispel, incurable diseases — one sip and gone…)
A true panacea.
She couldn't be more grateful — no matter how powerful her body was, alchemy was not her domain.
(A good connection… and a good friend.)
"As expected of you, Nfirea-san. Fine work."
"Hehe… but really, it's thanks to the alchemy tools you lent me..."
"No. Tools are merely tools. I value your skill, Nfirea-san. Have confidence."
"Th-Thank you…"
Praised by a peerless hero, Nfirea's face lit up.
Seeing such honest joy warmed Momon's heart as well.
"Well then, I'll be going. I'm sorry I only stopped by to pick this up."
"No— it's no problem at all. I'm sorry I can't help you more. Are you meeting up with Enri and the others now?"
"Yes. I had hoped you could join us, but…"
"I— I'm so sorry… I need to stop by the apothecary guild today, something urgent came up…"
Momon resolved to invite him again soon.
"Next time, Nfirea-san. Please join us."
"O-Of course! I'd love to!"
"Then I'll be off. Good luck with your potion work."
"Thank you— and take care, Momon-san."
They exchanged farewells, and Momon left the shop.
Her red cloak swayed behind her, unmistakably heroic — Nfirea's expression hardened with respect.
That she not only treated him kindly but gifted him alchemy tools and even God's Blood… he felt overwhelming gratitude.
Few alchemists were this blessed.
Without letting pride take root, he returned to the workshop — to recreate God's Blood, to reach the pinnacle of alchemy… and above all, to meet the expectations of Hero Momon.