Looking at the status of Shirleyviel displayed on the Panel, Ian let out a sigh of relief.
He knew that the Mystic Healing Knowledge he’d acquired before coming to the Sword and Magic World was effective here too.
After Shirleyviel discovered that the once chaotic world had returned to normal, she no longer feared the space outside her house.
Over the next few days, under the guidance of Ian, still in his Black Cat form, Shirleyviel finally saw her home’s surroundings for the first time.
On the System Panel, Shirleyviel Connalt’s Correction Degree was also steadily increasing.
When the Correction Degree reached 30%, Shirleyviel was finally able to walk the entire Naar Village, holding tightly to the Black Cat, with Old Anna leading the way.
Of course, Raymond had already received a message from Ian and taken the guards far away.
Yet when Raymond and the ‘White Maple Wolf Knights’ saw the frail Missy, clutching a Black Cat and timidly walking past, they couldn’t help but be moved to tears.
It wasn’t easy—after so long, Missy’s illness was finally showing signs of improvement.
Everything was heading in a good direction, and everyone was happy. Except for a certain Black Cat being used as a ‘shield’, held so tightly it was nearly seeing its ancestors…
***
A few more days passed, and Shirleyviel no longer needed to clutch the Black Cat as she explored her village.
Her beautiful Red Eyes, now filled with more and more sights, were no longer empty or withered, but instead bright and lively.
When Shirleyviel took the initiative to nudge Ian and step out of the door, Ian knew it was time to move on to the next stage of correction.
On this day, the Black Cat didn’t just lie around or groom its fur as usual.
It lightly jumped from Shirleyviel’s lap. She could now allow it to leave her embrace for a short while without becoming anxious.
The Black Cat came to the cluster of violets in the courtyard, still damp with morning dew. It reached out a paw and, ever so gently, touched the edge of a half-open petal.
The Black Cat tilted its head, platinum eyes focused intently on the flower, then turned to look back at Shirleyviel.
Shirleyviel stared at that trembling petal for a long time.
Then, mimicking the Black Cat, she used the softest part of her fingertip to gently touch the edge of the petal.
Cool, soft, with delicate textures.
Her finger flinched back as if burned, but soon reached out again to touch the petal once more.
This time, she lingered a little longer.
The tip of the Black Cat’s tail flicked upward ever so slightly.
Guidance like this continued quietly in the days that followed.
Shirleyviel’s “attention” gradually shifted from Ian back to the world itself.
She looked at flowers more often now; sometimes she’d stare at the flowing stream, her fingers unconsciously tracing wave-like arcs on her knees.
On the System Panel, the Correction Degree continued to climb at a steady, comforting pace.
From flowers to trees, from streams to the gentle breeze, Shirleyviel had become accustomed to communicating with these ‘things’.
Next would be attempts at interaction with “living beings,” something that required more courage and opportunity.
***
But as the protagonist, Shirleyviel naturally didn’t lack for luck.
A brave little Sparrow landed not far away, pecking at grass seeds.
The Black Cat immediately crouched low, the tip of its tail twitching, assuming a classic “ready-to-hunt” pose.
A low, excited purr rumbled in the Black Cat’s throat, its eyes fixed intently on the Sparrow.
Shirleyviel’s attention was indeed caught.
She looked at the Black Cat, then at the oblivious, hopping Sparrow.
The Black Cat’s focus seemed to infect her, and she held her breath, watching too.
But the Sparrow only hopped a few times before fluttering away.
The Black Cat relaxed its body in “disappointment” and licked its paw.
Later, they encountered a Squirrel. The little fellow, clutching a Pine Cone, squatted atop the fence, its shiny black eyes curiously watching the pair.
This time, Ian the Black Cat didn’t strike a hunting pose. Instead, he sat and squatted quietly, his tail curled in front of him, simply watching the Squirrel, blinking occasionally.
Shirleyviel simply watched as well. The Squirrel, feeling no threat, actually began to gnaw a pine nut right in front of them, its cheeks bulging.
Shirleyviel watched the rapid chewing for a long while.
Then, she did something that nearly made Old Anna—watching from a distance—cry out in surprise: she reached a hand toward the Squirrel.
It was a clumsy, tentative greeting!
The Squirrel, of course, didn’t understand, and after finishing its pine nut, scampered away.
But Shirleyviel held her hand out in that pose, and in her red eyes, a ripple of emotion flickered past.
Afterward, these attempts became more and more frequent.
Toward passing Butterflies, to buzzing Bees, even to the distant Stars in the night sky—Shirleyviel wanted to reach out and ‘touch’, to ‘communicate.’
Finally, at the start of the second month.
Bathed in warm sunlight, Shirleyviel hugged the Black Cat and sat under the shade of the Old Oak Tree.
A brightly-feathered little bird perched on a distant branch, singing sweetly.
Ian the Black Cat pricked up his ears to listen, then lifted his head and called back to the bird:
“Meow——woooo——”
The call was long and drawn-out.
Shirleyviel lowered her head, looking at the Black Cat that suddenly cried out in her arms.
She raised her head again to look at the bird calling on the branch.
The sound of the wind, the sound of the leaves, the bird’s song, the cat’s voice… all these sounds wove together, flowing into her ears.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out—she hadn’t spoken for so long, she’d even forgotten how to make a sound.
But she did not give up, and the Black Cat also lifted its face, platinum eyes calmly watching her.
“…Ah…”
A faint, threadlike but utterly clear syllable slipped from her lips.
Dry, weak, but real.
Even she seemed stunned, her red eyes widening a bit.
The Black Cat immediately rubbed its head against her chin, purring urgently and happily.
That faint sound awakened Shirleyviel’s instincts; her lips moved again.
This time, she tried to mimic the sound of wind through leaves, or the tail note of a bird’s song, making a few more broken, disconnected syllables: “Sss… haa… choo…”
Not words, but full of the vigor of trying.
Old Anna’s tears came streaming out, utterly unbidden. She clamped her hands over her mouth, terrified that the slightest noise might break this miraculous moment.
Shirleyviel immersed herself in her attempts. She looked at the leaves, the little bird, and finally, her gaze landed back on the Black Cat’s face, which had been watching her all along.
The Black Cat’s eyes were like two clear mirrors, reflecting her current confused yet striving face.
A stronger urge welled up inside her.
She wanted to tell it her thoughts.
Her lips parted again. This time, her gaze was more focused.
“Xue…”
The first syllable slipped out, muffled, as if shrouded in thick ice.
She paused, inhaled.
“Li…”
The second syllable, a bit clearer.
The Black Cat’s purr grew louder, its tail gently curling around her wrist.
Old Anna’s tears blurred her vision. She could only see the young lady clutching the Black Cat tightly under the Oak Tree’s shade and afternoon sunlight, piecing together those broken syllables with all her strength.
“…Viel…”
The last syllable fell, light as a sigh but weighty as a mountain.
“Shirley…viel…xi”
She had spoken her own name.