The Foul Flower and The Brave Trio

With the morning sun casting a warm glow and birds filling the air with their cheerful melodies, Mabel's excitement for the day ahead bubbled over. 

As she strolled along the path leading to a quaint house near the manor, she couldn't help but admire the picturesque surroundings. 

Duke Caius had prepared this new residence for Isabella, a move intended to minimize any further disruptions among the manor's staff.

The cottage, though not overly large, exuded a comforting hominess. Its entrance was adorned with walls covered in vibrant wisteria flowers that were in full bloom, creating a stunning display that captivated Mabel's attention.

Upon passing through the gate and into the garden, her eyes widened in wonder at the array of plant life she had never encountered before. 

Some were uniquely exquisite, while others held a more peculiar and unsettling allure. Tempted to touch one of the intriguing flowers, she found herself stopped by a gentle hand.

"Don't touch anything you're not familiar with, Mabel. It could be poisonous," warned Clara, adjusting her glasses. 

She had been assigned by Duke Caius to closely monitor Mabel's lessons and report back with meticulous detail.

Mabel furrowed her brow in curiosity, contemplating the wisdom behind Clara's caution. "But they're so beautiful. How could something this lovely be poisonous?"

Clara couldn't help but chuckle at Mabel's innocent enthusiasm. "My dear, you can't always judge something by its appearance," she advised, leading Mabel toward the front door of the house.

Before they could even knock on the door, Isabella swung it open hastily. She was clad in protective gear, wielding giant garden scissors, black glasses perched on her nose, and a straw hat atop her head.

"Perfect timing, hold this, kid," Isabella instructed, thrusting the unwieldy garden scissors into Mabel's small hands.

The scissors proved to be too much for the young girl, and they tumbled from her grasp with a thud.

"Ugh, heavy," Mabel exclaimed, struggling to lift them.

"Hmph! Don't be a weakling! The world of mages and potion crafters is not for the faint of wit or feeble of hands," Isabella declared, adjusting her black glasses with an air of superiority.

Clara, ever the caring guardian, rushed to Mabel's side, helping her grasp the massive scissors. "Don't be so hard on her, Isabella. She's only eight years old."

Isabella crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "That's no excuse. By the time I was eight, I was already battling ogres and goblins," she boasted before striding purposefully toward the gate.

"Why are you still standing there? Follow me," Isabella commanded, her steps leading the way toward a nearby forest.

With Clara assisting Mabel, they set off after their driven mentor. She marveled at Isabella's strength, wondering how someone could carry those giant scissors so effortlessly.

The trio eventually came to a halt when Isabella abruptly stopped. Clara and Mabel followed suit, their eyes falling upon a monstrous creature that loomed before them. 

The creature stood at least 200 centimeters (6'6 feet) tall, it possessed tendril-like appendages that swayed menacingly, ready to snatch anything in its path.

The creature boasted three heads, each resembling a gigantic flower but armed with rows of serrated teeth. At its center, an exquisite flower, akin to a pink tulip, exuded a captivating aroma.

"Now, we must defeat this monster and cut down the flower at its heart!" Isabella's declaration hung in the air, charged with electric excitement.

"Are you serious, Isabella? This is a blossomfiend, and Mabel is here with us. She could get hurt," Clara protested, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

The blossomfiend was no ordinary creature found in the wild; its existence was far more sinister. It thrived under unique, morbid conditions, often lurking beneath piles of corpses. 

This peculiar trait led to the Isandor Empire adopting cremation as the standard burial practice, preventing such monsters from emerging amidst graves.

Isabella, however, remained undeterred. "It's fine, Clara. You and I will serve as bait, and that kid will be the one to sever the flower," Isabella explained, her eyes unwaveringly fixed on the menacing creature before them.

Clara sighed in resignation. "Mabel can barely hold those scissors. I'll inform the knights so they can assist us," she said, turning away to make her report.

But before Clara could act on her decision, Isabella had already engaged the monster, her determination fueled by a possessive desire for the treasure they sought. After all, this monster was a rare one. 

"There's no way I'll let them have this treasure! It's all mine!" Isabella exclaimed with fervor, her voice trembling with the incantation of a spell.

The two heads of the monstrous entity snapped to attention as they recognized Isabella's presence.

Swift as a striking wind, Isabella harnessed her magic, carving through the air with sharp gusts that severed one of the monster's heads while the other narrowly evaded her assault.

"Huh, not bad," Isabella mused, a note of admiration creeping into her voice.

Yet, to their astonishment, the severed head began to regenerate, revealing the creature's remarkable self-healing abilities.

As if in retaliation, the monster's writhing tendrils encircled the precious flower, forming a protective cocoon around it.

Clara was left momentarily speechless, caught off guard by Isabella's impulsive actions. In contrast, Mabel watched the unfolding battle with wide-eyed wonder, her fascination only growing.

"Wow! Isabella is so cool! I thought she had fire magic because of her hair!" Mabel chimed in, her excitement undiminished.

The remaining head lunged at Isabella, who deftly evaded its attack. Her agility allowed her to circle back to Clara and Mabel, though not without some danger.

"Well, it seems I didn't need your help to be the bait. You and that child need to get that flower," she declared, then promptly returned to the fray.

Clara left with little choice, stepped up to help Mabel confront the resilient tendrils and reach the coveted flower.

"Mabel, be careful, alright? I'll protect you. Follow me," she instructed.

As they advanced, the tendrils repeatedly manifested, attempting to drive them away from the core of the monstrous entity. 

Clara's earth magic took the form of razor-sharp rocks, effortlessly slashing through the encroaching limbs.

Meanwhile, Isabella remained engaged in her fierce battle with the heads. She relentlessly channeled her spell, repeatedly targeting the heads, but they demonstrated an uncanny ability to regenerate.

The monster could only be defeated by severing the flower, the vital core brimming with valuable sap essential for potion-making. 

Clara and Mabel pressed on, undeterred by the growing number of tendrils that threatened their advance.

In the background, the heads that had been fixated on Isabella now shifted their focus toward the two women, moving menacingly closer.

"You need to do it fast," Isabella's voice resonated from behind them as she shielded them from the approaching head.

Suddenly, one of the monster's heads spewed a corrosive acid. Clara's reaction was swift, conjuring a protective barrier that deflected the hazardous liquid, sparing them from harm.

"Mabel, from now on, you need to cut the tendrils surrounding the flower and then sever the flower itself, alright?" Clara instructed.

Mabel nodded resolutely, her nerves and excitement intertwined. She was enveloped in the intensity of the battle, her heart pounding as she embraced her role as the hero in this epic confrontation.

With scissors trembling in her grip due to their weight, Mabel attacked the tendrils one by one, her determination unwavering. 

Every severed tendril tried to regrow and retaliate, but before they could reach her, an electric shock reduced them to ashes.

"As I suspected, Lirio already protected her with magic," Isabella noted, her focus still on the relentless battle.

Clara sighed, her exasperation tinged with sympathy. "It still wasn't wise to bring Mabel into this battle. His Grace will not be pleased with you."

"Nah, it's fine. She appears to be enjoying herself," Isabella remarked, gesturing toward Mabel.

Mabel diligently continued her battle with the tendrils, her temple glistening with sweat, her heart pounding with each snip of the scissors. With every tendril she severed, victory drew nearer.

Finally, after several intense minutes, Mabel spotted the unmistakable pink flowers.

"I see the flowers!" she exclaimed, her voice quivering with excitement.

With unwavering determination, she brought the scissors down on the flower, wrestling with the relentless tendrils that sought to thwart her.

But she refused to yield. After an arduous struggle, Mabel finally succeeded in severing the flower.

With its vital core severed, the monstrous entity ceased its aggression, its form weakening until it lay still.

Mabel, her breaths heavy and her skin glistening with sweat, clutched the severed flower and turned to Isabella, eager for praise.

"Look! I cut down the flower!" she announced, seeking the recognition she had earned.

"Hmph! Not bad," Isabella responded, withholding the praise that Mabel had yearned for as she accepted the flower from Mabel's grasp.

Mabel's expression fell slightly, disappointed that her heroics had not garnered the acclaim she had hoped for.

Clara, however, sighed with a mixture of exasperation and fondness as she patted Mabel's head.

"Good job, Mabel," Clara commended with a warm smile.

Mabel beamed with pride at Clara's praise, her spirits lifted. Meanwhile, Isabella continued her work, methodically cutting down the two giant heads and additional tendrils. 

Without a word, she handed the heads to Clara and the tendrils to Mabel, and the triumphant trio made their way back to Isabella's cottage.

The journey back was marked by flushed faces and the lingering thrill of their shared victory.

---

The three of them finally arrived at Isabella's cottage, and it was the first time Mabel had the chance to take in its interior. The cottage proved surprisingly spacious. 

The ground floor held a massive cauldron, while a study room occupied a corner. On the second floor, they were greeted by an array of bookshelves, resembling a small library. Two rooms, presumably Isabella's bedrooms, flanked the top floor.

"Place those heads and tendrils in the basket," Isabella instructed, pointing towards a basket conveniently placed near the cauldron. 

She, on the other hand, carefully placed the severed flower into a box on the table. Clara and Mabel nodded and placed the heads and tendrils carefully. 

After that, Mabel and Clara obediently took their seats on a nearby sofa, both recognizing the need for a well-deserved rest. 

"I think it's best for us to rest for a while," Clara suggested.

"Do as you please," responded Isabella, ensconced at the table.

Isabella meticulously began her work by trimming the tip of the flower, revealing a pool of yellow liquid inside.

However, the odor that wafted from it was nothing short of repugnant, reminiscent of rotting corpses.

"Ugh, why is it so foul?" Mabel inquired, reluctantly holding her breath.

"This particular monster thrives on corpses and absorbs the essence of creatures attracted to its scent, Mabel. The liquid inside the flower is a result of this macabre process," explained Clara, her nose pinched shut in an effort to stave off the stench.

Mabel was naturally curious. "What's that liquid used for?" she asked.

Isabella, having completed her task, transferred the putrid liquid into a bottle. "It's used for various purposes, like concocting potions to restore youth or hasten aging," she clarified before rising from her seat.

"Now, kid, help me with these tendrils and heads," Isabella instructed, moving towards the basket. Mabel and Clara followed suit.

"Separate the petals from the heads and cut their teeth. Put them here," Isabella directed, providing Mabel with another basket, pliers, and a knife.

"I'll help Mabel with the teeth," Clara chimed in, reaching for the pliers.

Her hand was promptly swatted away by Isabella. "Let the child handle it herself," Isabella insisted firmly.

Clara sighed, her concern for Mabel evident. She worried about the child making a mistake or injuring herself; after all, Mabel was still so young.

Unwilling to engage in further dispute with Isabella. "Be cautious, Mabel. Those teeth are sharp," she cautioned, her concern evident.

"Don't worry, Nanny. Back in the orphanage, I used to help in the kitchen and cut lots of vegetables. I'm good with a knife!" Mabel reassured them, her focus unwavering as she diligently worked on the petals.

Isabella cast a scrutinizing gaze at Mabel. It was an unexpected revelation that Mabel had spent time in an orphanage. 

She had assumed that Duke Caius had kept Mabel hidden away in this manor, only adopting her when she was older.

"Don't get too full of yourself," Isabella replied curtly. "You can assist her, Clara," she added.

Clara grinned. "You could have just said you were concerned about Mabel," she teased gently, before assisting Mabel with the task of removing the teeth.

Isabella dismissed Clara's remark with a curt wave of her hand. "That's your imagination. I'm only concerned she does a shoddy job," she quipped, hanging the tendrils on the wall.

Clara chuckled at Isabella's façade. In a strangely harmonious atmosphere, the three of them continued their work with a newfound sense of camaraderie.