When Charlotte returned home, Floleen had once again prepared a table full of dishes waiting for him.
This time, at least Floleen had taken part in preparing dinner; after having the food sent over, she reheated it herself.
Faced with a table full of food, Charlotte—who should have been happy—showed no reaction at all.
The momentary feeling of being moved was erased by some inexplicable force as soon as it appeared.
He said flatly, “Floleen, you eat. I don’t really feel like eating.”
Floleen, who had been happily helping Charlotte with the utensils, was doused with a bucket of cold water in an instant.
The smile on her face froze.
She had just been imagining flirting with Charlotte at the dinner table.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He avoided her gaze, his tone as calm and steady as ever. “I want to go check the Library.”
If it had been Charlotte yesterday, even if his tone was just as cold, Floleen would have dared to rush over, hug his arm, and nuzzle his sleeve with her cheek to act cute—she could always make him soften a little.
But today’s Charlotte, although his face was still blank and his voice calm as ever, made Floleen feel that something was wrong. She could sense that subtle difference, even if she couldn’t put it into words.
Floleen didn’t disturb Charlotte again.
She watched as he walked straight toward the Library.
Floleen sighed softly.
She had been a bit angry, but then she remembered his breathless whispers by her ear last night, how he’d clung to her so tightly in his loss of control as if he wanted to fuse her into his bones, the way he’d fervently sought her again and again—so she forgave him after all.
“So, you think he’s being annoying like this?”
“Who?” Floleen’s scarlet eyes sharpened in an instant, a shadowy aura spilled from her hand, and a Mage’s Staff appeared in her grip.
“Don’t be so tense.”
A gentle laugh drifted down.
A mist of luminous white suddenly rose before her. As the mist slowly dispersed, a slender figure was revealed.
Aifel stood there in a pale blue formal dress, the hem adorned with delicate magical lights that looked like a night sky scattered and sewn onto the fabric—this was a style she’d copied with magic after glimpsing Floleen’s dress the day before.
She twirled, the skirt flaring in a small arc, her smile radiant: “Nice to meet you, Miss Floleen. I’m the… Divine Artifact Lady that Charlotte mentioned.”
“Divine Artifact Lady?” Floleen’s pupils contracted, and she looked down in disbelief at the Dream of the Dark Moon in her hand; the cold ring seemed to emit a faint glow at this moment. “This ring… is really a Divine Artifact?”
“Mhm, that’s right. The Dream of the Dark Moon is rather special—it’s a contract-type Divine Artifact. It’s multi-faceted. It’s not wrong to say what Charlotte gave you is the real thing. But only Charlotte can use its true powers. For you, its greatest function is probably that you can see me. The symbolic meaning of giving you this ring is probably more important.”
Floleen finally reacted. She hurriedly put away her Mage’s Staff, bowed deeply, and spoke with a hint of apology, “Forgive my rudeness, Divine Artifact Lady.”
“It’s nothing, really.” Aifel waved her hand, amusement in her eyes.
“Honestly, I’m not much older than you. I’ve spent most of these long years sleeping anyway. Charlotte’s never been very respectful to me—having someone suddenly so polite is a little hard to get used to.”
She paused, her gaze falling on the faint furrow between Floleen’s brows, and her tone softened: “Feeling a bit down? Seeing him like that just now?”
Floleen’s shoulders drooped, her voice tinged with irrepressible grievance and hesitation, like a little beast abandoned: “A little… I guess.”
Aifel was silent for a moment, as if choosing her words, then she spoke in a soothing tone: “Try to be more understanding with Charlotte. What he bears is heavier than you think.”
“I know…” Floleen replied in a low voice, her fingers gripping her skirt tightly.
But as soon as she spoke, confusion and disappointment surged up.
She lifted her head, eyes shimmering with a sheen of tears. “But Lady Aifel, Charlotte was fine just yesterday, how did he become like this today…”
“Since he entrusted you with the Dream of the Dark Moon, there are things I can tell you.” Aifel’s tone grew grave.
Floleen’s head snapped up, her once dim eyes suddenly bright. Her back straightened unconsciously, and she became instantly more alert—as long as it was about Charlotte, she would always care. She leaned forward, hands clasped before her, voice filled with earnestness: “Please tell me.”
“The reason he’s so cold today isn’t his fault.” Aifel spoke slowly, and with her words, Floleen’s face turned pale. “He’s gradually losing his Humanity. The blank face and dull emotions you see are only the surface.”
“W-what do you mean?” Floleen asked anxiously, her voice trembling slightly, hand covering her mouth, panic filling her eyes. “Gradually losing Humanity? Charlotte… why is this happening?”
“Don’t panic.” Aifel’s voice softened, like a breeze soothing taut nerves. “It’s a very long process, and it’s not irreversible.”
Only then did Floleen slowly lower her hand from her mouth, took several deep breaths, and nodded gently.
She forced down the panic in her heart and looked intently at Aifel, calming herself to listen.
“Charlotte is our second master. Before him, only the Mist God ever used us.” Aifel’s gaze drifted into the distance, carrying a sense of the ages.
“He may be the Divine Power, but in the end, he’s still mortal. To wield the power of a Divine Artifact, there is a price—Humanity is gradually replaced by Godhood. The more he uses the Divine Artifact, the more the change accelerates. However… things have improved a little recently.”
So Charlotte didn’t just suddenly change in one moment. Long ago, she’d even thought Charlotte had stopped loving her.
She suddenly felt her own childishness was unreasonable. Charlotte had always been striving for their peaceful life together, fighting to keep the Weiss Family and the Mistmoon Family surviving in this world, while she herself had only thrown tantrums.
“So that’s how it is…” Floleen muttered, her lowered lashes hiding the shimmer in her eyes, her voice full of heartache. “Did Charlotte use the Divine Artifact again today?”
“Mhm.” Aifel nodded slightly. “Last night, he almost died outside. But you don’t need to worry—he’s already handled everything.”
For some reason, a sentence Charlotte had once spoken echoed in Floleen’s ears, carrying his unique coolness, but with an unshakable resolve: “Anyone who dares disrupt our lives, I’ll make them pay the price.”
So, once again, he had quietly protected her without her knowing.
A strong wave of guilt surged in Floleen’s heart.
She bit her lip, looked up at Aifel, her eyes filled with urgency: “Lady Aifel, is there anything I can do for Charlotte? Anything at all—I’m willing.”
“It’s simple. Let him feel enough emotions.
The gods of the Creation Age all had Humanity at first. Because they had their own ‘Anchor’ in the mortal world, they didn’t become cold tools that only exercised authority.
As long as you become Charlotte’s Anchor in the human world, binding him with your love and companionship, he won’t lose his Humanity completely.”
Floleen bowed to Aifel with sincere gratitude. “Thank you for telling me this, Lady Aifel. Charlotte is always like this—bearing everything alone, never letting me share the burden, always telling me not to worry. But I really want to help him.”
“Just call me Aifel.” Aifel waved her hand, her smile playful. “I just couldn’t stand seeing you so down. After all, Charlotte really did go a little too far today. Well, let’s end our chat for today—I have to go back to the ring and sleep. Who knows when he’ll need to use my power again.”
The dining room fell silent again.
Floleen looked at the now cooling food on the table, but couldn’t help the corners of her mouth lifting slightly—a bit helpless, a bit doting. She murmured softly, “What a… bad man.”
But Floleen didn’t feel wronged at all. Since Charlotte didn’t want to come near her, she’d just force her way in!
Floleen packed up the exquisite dishes, getting ready to take them to the Library.
She deftly loaded the food into insulated silver containers, then turned and glanced at her skirt—tilting her head, a sly gleam in her eyes. “Hmm… maybe a maid outfit would be even better?”
Back in the ring, Aifel grinned smugly. “Charlotte, you really should thank me. Maybe next time I’ll help you stop the girls at home from blowing up.”
But she immediately pouted a little.
Clearly, she’d done the most work.
“I mean, I’m at least an Empire-level Mage—if anyone wants to learn magic, just come to me, right? Why don’t they spend more time with me instead? I was the first one here, after all…”