Canon Omake: Zanze PoV

The fact that Aura is a demon doesn't faze me anymore. If someone brings it up, my reaction would probably just be an indifferent, "Oh, right, that's true." After all, we've been through such a long, long time together.

When I first saw Aura at Lady Serie's place, I was genuinely startled. Aura radiated the overwhelming aura of a powerful demon from head to toe. But it didn't take long before she revealed the rotten, lazy nature ingrained in her bones—undeniably a disaster of a person. She was slothful and indifferent to the point where anyone would find it unbearable, and her sharp tongue was relentless. 

If all demons were like Aura, I used to think, perhaps they wouldn't be so bad—a dangerous thought, I know.

And yet, there's no denying it: I've never had a more remarkable companion than Aura.

Aura never harms humans. Even when she has justifiable reasons to, she absolutely refuses to leave any hidden wounds behind.

Her level of magic is extraordinary, second only to Lady Serie as far as I know. She often helps organize magical texts, repeatedly builds a stellar reputation, and has played a key role in establishing the human magic system.

She never claims credit, always shifting the accolades to me instead. Her ideas are imaginative yet entirely practical, her vision at least five centuries ahead of her time.

For these reasons, despite her infuriating mouth, I'm always willing to take care of her. Perhaps I'm the only one who would even bother. Over time, I've grown so used to her incessant nonsense that I can't imagine a life without it.

But now... she's vanished again.

It isn't the first time. Each time she's disappeared, she's returned battered, broken, her left horn chipped or her body scarred. Lady Serie would always be the one to find her and drag her back, each time with a heavier sigh. The last time Aura came home, she was quieter than usual, as though some part of her spirit had been left behind. I spent weeks coaxing her back to her usual self.

If I were to describe Aura, she might be like a rebellious but adorably clueless puppy—one that you can't help but pity.

A sudden gust of wind sent papers flying and knocked over an inkwell holding a quill. It was a rare, valuable manuscript, and if I didn't act fast, Lady Serie would never forgive me. I hurriedly used levitation and cleaning magic to save the book. Although I managed to restore it, the notes I had written on it were wiped away, leaving me feeling disheartened.

I looked up and realized the outside world had grown completely dark without me noticing. The sky was heavy with thick clouds, ominously dark as though the rain would pour down at any moment. The air was suffocating, and condensation clung to the windowpanes, making it hard to see outside.

For some inexplicable reason, I felt hollow. A strange ache gnawed at my chest, like I was forgetting something I couldn't afford to lose.

I hugged the salvaged book to my chest and stared at the rain-streaked window. 'What is this feeling? Why does it feel like... she's not coming back this time?'

Drip. Drip.

Water landed on the back of my hand. It wasn't rain. I touched my face and felt the damp trails of tears sliding down my cheeks.

'Am I... crying?'

I whispered, barely audible even to myself, "Oh, Goddess, if you can hear me... tell me why my heart aches so."

Thunder rumbled through the sky, and the rain intensified, battering the windows with furious force. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, its brief glow catching my reflection in the glass—pale, trembling, broken.

Knock. Knock.

The door rattled under the weight of the knocks. I didn't even stop to put on shoes, rushing to the door in three hurried steps. Some unrelenting voice whispered in my mind, You're too late.

I flung the door open.

Lady Serie stood there, her silhouette outlined against the storm's darkness. Her boots were caked in mud, and her usually composed expression carried a faint trace of melancholy. She looked me up and down, taking in my disheveled state with a flicker of surprise before her face settled into something unreadable.

"So," she said softly, her voice nearly lost in the storm's howls. "You already know."

"No... no, Lady Serie, I don't. I just— I feel like something's wrong. Terribly wrong." My voice cracked, my words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

Lady Serie looked me up and down before shaking her head. She opened her mouth to speak.

"一一一,一一一"

The thunder roared furiously, drowning out her voice, but I understood her meaning.

I clutched my mouth with trembling hands and collapsed helplessly to the floor.