From behind the overturned carts of vegetables in the corners of the room, the terrified royal chefs slowly poked their heads out. They looked at the massive hole in the wall, then at the tiny girl standing on the chair.
"She... she beat the monster," one of the head chefs whispered, tears of absolute relief streaming down his face. "We're alive! The little girl saved us!"
"Hooray!" another chef cheered, wiping his eyes with a flour-stained apron.
Charmy placed her hands on her hips, nodding proudly. "Nobody messes with the food while I'm eating! Now, where was that roasted chicken leg..."
She turned back to the massive wooden table.
Her happy expression froze.
The shockwave from her own massive cotton sheep attack had been stronger than she anticipated. The violent displacement of air had swept across the table like a hurricane. The silver platters were overturned. The towering cakes were smashed against the wall.
And her prized, perfectly roasted chicken leg, along with a plate of exquisite honey-glazed pastries, had been blown entirely off the table and sent tumbling toward the gaping hole in the wall.
Time seemed to slow down to a torturous crawl for Charmy. She watched, her mouth opening in a silent scream of absolute tragedy, as her beautiful, delicious meal sailed through the air, heading straight out the window toward the muddy, ash-covered streets far below.
"NOOOOOOO!" Charmy shrieked, tears springing to her eyes. "My precious meat! My pastries! Come back!"
She scrambled over the table, heedless of the spilled gravy and crushed fruit, desperately reaching her short arms out toward the falling food. But she was too late. The chicken leg vanished over the edge of the jagged brickwork.
Charmy collapsed onto her knees on the edge of the rubble, reaching her hands out into the empty air, her heart breaking into a million tiny, hungry pieces.
But the tragedy was suddenly interrupted.
A sharp, rushing howl of wind cut through the smoke outside the tower. A figure blurred through the evening sky, riding on a compressed board of emerald green mana.
Yuno, his Golden Dawn robe snapping sharply in the wind, flew directly toward the gaping hole in the stone tower. He had tracked the witch's gray mana here, fully intending to finish the fight if she was still conscious and dangerous.
As he approached the breach in the wall, his newly heightened sensory abilities picked up something falling toward him. It wasn't an attack. It wasn't ash or debris. It was... poultry.
Without thinking, operating entirely on his refined reflexes, Yuno flicked his wrist. A gentle, upward draft of wind caught the falling chicken leg and the plate of tumbling pastries just inches before they plummeted into the abyss. He hovered the food securely in a cushion of air and guided his wind board through the hole in the wall, stepping lightly onto the marble floor of the ruined dining hall.
The tiny Wind Spirit, Sylph, fluttered on his shoulder, looking thoroughly confused by the culinary rescue mission.
Yuno stood amidst the rubble, his breathing heavy, his golden eyes scanning the room. He saw the pulverized stone pillar on the far side, and the crumpled, unconscious, withered form of Catherine lying beneath it. She was completely out cold, her threat neutralized.
Then, he looked down.
Kneeling on the edge of the rubble, staring up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, was a very small, very round girl wearing the robe of the Black Bulls.
Yuno stared at her. He thought back to the terrifying, dense, incredibly aggressive mana signature he had felt radiating from this tower just moments before. He looked at the unconscious veteran witch, and then back at the small, flour-covered girl.
Did she do this? Yuno thought to himself, a flicker of genuine surprise penetrating his usual stoicism. That kind of raw, blunt-force mana... and she's from Asta's squad. The Black Bulls really are full of anomalies.
Yuno raised his hand, gesturing with his fingers. The cushion of wind gently lowered the roasted chicken leg and the plate of honey pastries, setting them down perfectly intact right in front of Charmy's knees.
"I believe you dropped this," Yuno said, his voice quiet, steady, and exhausted.
Charmy looked at the perfectly safe, undamaged food. Then, she slowly tilted her head up to look at the person who had saved it.
The setting sun caught Yuno's sharp, handsome features. His dark hair blew gently in the residual breeze of his own magic. He stood tall, bathed in the heroic light of a successful battle, his golden eyes looking down at her.
To Charmy, the background vanished. The ruined walls, the scared chefs, the unconscious witch—they all melted away into a field of sparkling, imaginary roses. Her heart did a massive, violent flip in her chest.
He saved my food, Charmy thought, her face instantly flushing a vibrant, furious shade of red. Her eyes turned into massive, shimmering stars. He's so tall... and handsome... he's the Prince of Meals!
She scrambled to her feet, clutching her chicken leg like a holy relic. She looked up at him, her usual bold, loud personality completely short-circuiting in the face of her sudden, overwhelming crush.
"Th-thank you!" Charmy stuttered, her voice pitching so high it was almost a squeak. She twisted the fabric of her Black Bull robe in her free hand, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. "You saved my most precious treasure! I'm Charmy! Wh-what is your name, oh brave Prince?"
Yuno looked at the blushing, stuttering girl. He opened his mouth to reply, intending to politely introduce himself and confirm that the witch was permanently dealt with.
But the words never left his throat.
The adrenaline that had been keeping him upright suddenly vanished. The sheer toll of battling a seasoned veteran while simultaneously awakening to a completely new, profound level of sensory awareness and Spirit Magic finally caught up to him. He had completely drained his massive mana reserves. He had pushed his physical body far beyond its natural limits, relying on sheer willpower to stay in the sky.
Now that the threat was over, his body simply shut down.
Yuno's golden eyes rolled back. His knees buckled, all the strength leaving his limbs in a single, devastating rush. He pitched forward, falling like a felled tree directly toward the small girl standing in front of him.
Charmy let out a startled squeak. "Prince!"
She didn't hesitate. Her grimoire flipped open again. "Cotton Magic: Fluffy Cloud Bed!"
A massive, incredibly soft mound of pure white cotton erupted from the floorboards, expanding instantly into a plush, oversized cushion right beneath them.
Yuno collapsed, his heavy, exhausted frame landing softly on the cotton, completely unconscious. His head slumped forward, coming to a rest directly on top of Charmy's lap as she sat back into the fluffy cushion.
Charmy froze. The incredibly handsome boy from the Golden Dawn was passed out, using her as a pillow.
Her face turned a shade of red that rivaled a boiled lobster. Steam practically whistled out of her ears. She sat there, entirely rigid, clutching her chicken leg in one hand while her other hand hovered nervously over his dark hair.