Mel asks Roger if he already killed the fish, but he explains that it’s still very much alive—swimming angrily inside the metal net he set up by the river. Hearing this, Mel lights up like a kid at a festival and declares she wants to start preparing the Xanas right away since dawn is almost here.
Roger offers to accompany her, but Mel refuses, insisting he hasn’t slept at all after spending the entire night catching the fish. Roger stubbornly claims he’s fine—but if she wants to “make him feel better,” he’d love a hug.
Mel, flustered, tries to argue that she hasn’t even bathed yet. Roger, proudly filthy, says he’s definitely dirtier, considering his all-night fish wrestling.
She turns away embarrassed, and Roger takes that as permission to hug her from behind like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Mel turns tomato-red… right as Zeff (Seth corrected) walks in.
She greets him awkwardly. He greets her back while doing a dramatic U-turn because he clearly walked in on something he did not want to be part of.
Later, when the knights wake up, Mel tells them she’ll be preparing Xanas for breakfast and needs flour and oil because she wants to try deep-frying the thing. Zeff volunteers to fetch the ingredients.
While he’s off running errands, Mel and Roger head toward the river. He asks if she has everything ready, and she proudly shows him the magic circles she drew on oil paper. Roger finally understands how she plans to extract the leftover magic from the fish—even out here in the wild.
Mel explains that she originally planned to draw a magic circle right by the river, but since water and magic circles don’t mix (unless you enjoy watching your hard work dissolve in two seconds), she went with oil-paper instead.
When they reach the river, Roger immediately tells Mel to stay back because the Xanas is still very dangerous. He orders the knights to lift the net carefully, reminding them that monster fish are basically underwater bodybuilders—one good smack could break a bone.
While Roger gives serious, knightly commands, Mel can’t help being mesmerized by how cool and assertive he looks.
The net finally comes up, and Mel is stunned. The Xanas is way bigger than she expected—she’s seen drawings, but nothing prepares you for the real, flopping, extremely angry version. She instinctively steps forward for a closer look.
Roger immediately blocks her path. As much as he loves seeing her excited, he reminds her that the Xanas could easily rip her arm off if she got too close. Safety first, curiosity second.
Now that the fish is out of the water, Roger asks if she’s ready for him to behead it. But Mel, suddenly fired up, raises a sword and proudly declares she wants to do it herself.
…Until she realizes the sword is insanely heavy and her arms are basically noodles in comparison.
The Xanas is huge, the sword is heavier than her research books, and after wobbling around like a baby deer trying to lift a log, she accepts defeat. Roger gently tells her not to feel bad—sword mastery takes a lot of practice. For now, she can leave the messy chopping duties to him.
Even though Roger is great with a sword, he admits he’s never actually killed a fish before. So he asks Mel for instructions. She stands up like a proud fish-execution instructor and explains that the first step is to blind the Xanas, because she once heard that fish stop moving when they can’t see anything. A still fish equals an easier fish, after all.
She gently places a cloth over the Xanas’s eye, and—like magic or maybe just science—it freezes. With step one complete, she tells Roger to move to step two: stab the fish right behind the eyes and above the gills to destroy its brain.
Roger follows her directions, plunging his sword into the monster fish’s head. After a short but dramatic struggle, the light fades from the creature’s eyes. Success! The mighty, terrifying fish has been slain by… a cloth and a well-placed stab.
Now it’s Mel’s turn. She covers the fish with her magic circles and begins the extraction. The Xanas’s magic is thick—like monster-flavored syrup—but thankfully there isn’t much blood, so her flask doesn’t overflow like a messy kitchen experiment. The extraction finishes smoothly, and she hands the flask to Roger for safekeeping.
Originally, Mel wanted Roger to behead the fish next, but she hesitates because she feels guilty about always making him do the “gross jobs.” So she shyly asks if he can teach her how to behead beasts on her own.
Roger chuckles, touched by her enthusiasm, but reassures her that he’s more than happy to chop off as many heads as she needs. After all, helping with her cooking makes him absurdly happy—maybe too happy.
Mel beams at that. Back home, she always cooked and researched alone, since her father was busy and everyone else just labeled her as “the weirdo girl with knives.” Having Roger and his knights so excited to help is a refreshing change.
Once the knights reposition the fish, Roger prepares to behead it. But before swinging, he asks if there’s anything he should keep in mind. Mel tells him he should start cutting from the spot he stabbed earlier and slice diagonally toward the gills—professional fish-decapitation style.
Slicing the fish at such a diagonal would normally be a “boss-level challenge,” but for Roger, master of blades and unofficial king of dramatic sword moves, it’s no problem at all. He beheads the Xanas cleanly, leaving every bit of flesh perfectly intact. Mel is stunned, and even the knights stare at him like he just performed culinary magic with a sword.
When they return to the fortress, Zeth has finished setting up their outdoor cooking station. He apologizes that they need to cook outside because the kitchen is too small, but Mel actually prefers it—less mess, less stress, fewer burned ceilings.
Mel starts by asking if anyone knows how to remove monster-fish skin and scales. A knight named Ambry volunteers and immediately gets to work. Despite the Xanas being the size of a small boat, Ambry peels the skin off so cleanly that not a single scrap of meat sticks to it. Mel internally promotes him to “Fish Skinning Knight First Class.”
With the meat ready, it’s frying time. Mel prepares two pots of oil: one hot, one hotter-but-not-too-hot. She plans to fry the fish in two stages for maximum crispiness—a method that Roger has never even heard of, but he’s eager to help anyway.
Sophie asks Mel if there’s anything Roger can do, and Mel, surprised he wants to be involved after all the fish violence, gives him a simple job: monitor the temperature of the hotter pot and please, please don’t burn his knightly hands.
While Roger dutifully stares at the pot like it’s a dangerous enemy, Mel starts mixing the batter. Normally she’d add eggs, but since they don’t have any, she just blends water, flour, and spices together—simple, rustic, and hopefully edible.
After the prep work is done, they dip the Xanas meat into the batter and start frying it in the cooler pot of oil. They wait until each piece turns a perfect golden brown, then lift them out with a perforated wooden ladle—Mel calls it “the holy spatula of crispy justice.” Finally, each piece gets a second fry in the hotter pot to make the outside crunchy while keeping the inside soft and juicy.
Once the first batch is ready, Mel serves a plate to Roger, and the other knights scramble into cooking mode like they’ve suddenly enrolled in Knightly Culinary School.
Roger insists on frying a batch himself… which unfortunately ends in mild charcoal. Mel reassures him that very few people master monster-fish tempura on their first attempt. She even proves it’s no big deal by asking him to feed her one of his pieces. Roger hesitates—he doesn’t want to poison the woman he likes—but Mel insists, reminding him that her hands are still sticky from all the prep work.
She opens her mouth expectantly, but the fish is still piping hot, so she asks him to blow on it first. Roger takes this job very seriously, gently cooling the piece before feeding her. To her surprise, the overcooked fish is actually pretty chewy in a pleasant way. Roger, shocked by this miracle, tries some himself and agrees—it’s oddly delicious.
They move on to the fluffy, properly fried pieces, which Mel also adores. Now she can’t decide which style is better. Roger, being a diplomatic duke, suggests they just make both. The knights immediately prove him right: half love the juicy version, and half adore Roger’s dry “battle rations style.” In fact, the dry ones contain so little moisture that Mel realizes they could be perfect emergency food for missions.
Mel never even considered how useful “monster-fish jerky” could be, so she thanks Roger for the accidental discovery. Roger, being the humble overpowered duke he is, insists he deserves zero credit since his dry batch was basically a cooking disaster with bonus crunch.
He checks on Mel, worried she’s been standing all morning, but she brushes it off—she had fun cooking with him, and apparently fun is better than leg rest. Roger is touched, but then notices several knights carrying dishes inside. Confused, he asks why everything isn’t being set up outside. Mel explains that she asked the chefs to prepare bread and vegetables to go with the fish, so the tables were moved to the great hall.
She tells Roger to go ahead since none of the knights will eat until their duke sits down. Roger asks why she isn’t coming with him, and she explains she needs to dispose of the used oil first. Roger tries to protest, but Mullan physically drags him away like a responsible knight-parent.
Left alone, Mel begins extinguishing the firewood. She feels guilty making Roger help so much—he needs rest, even if he claims helping her “brings him joy” (and possibly heart attacks).
Just then, Zeth and Ambry return, offering to help clean up so they can all eat sooner. Mel gratefully accepts and asks if they’d like to try something. They peek into the bowl she’s holding—it’s Xanas belly meat, which looks different from everything else.
Mel explains that belly meat isn’t great for frying, so she didn’t serve it earlier, but she wants their opinion before deciding what to do with it. Both men take a bite and immediately brighten up. Ambry says it tastes great but would be even better with a splash of sour fruit juice.
Zeth remembers there’s plenty of fruit prepared for breakfast, so juice shouldn’t be a problem. Mel is thrilled—now even the belly meat won’t go to waste. A victory for zero-waste monster cuisine!
Mel urges Zeff and Ambry to hurry to the hall with the fruit before the knights inhale it all. When she arrives, she sees the entire squad devouring breakfast like they haven’t eaten in ten years. The moment Roger spots her, he calls her to sit beside him—something the knights pretend not to notice but totally notice.
A moment later, Zeff brings over the mysterious fruit he mentioned earlier. He explains it’s called Dabo, known for its intensely sour juice—basically nature’s way of telling people, “Good luck.”
Mel pours some over her fish and her eyes sparkle like she just discovered a new seasoning magic. Roger watches her with growing suspicion. Mel offers him a bite and asks if he likes sour food. Roger, who has the taste experience of a noble raised on safe flavors, admits he has no idea what sour even tastes like—but bravely gives it a try.
The moment it hits his tongue, his face contorts like he just bit into a lemon possessing a personal grudge. Mel instantly understands the message: Roger + Sour Food = No Thanks. She quietly promises herself never to assault his taste buds like that again.
After breakfast, they prepare to resume their journey to Galbraith Castle. Roger orders everyone onto their dragons, and soon they’re soaring into the sky again.
As they fly, Mel grows curious about Roger’s life back home. All the knights adore him, but what about the people in his territory? So she asks him what Galbraith is like. Roger explains that the region once had 30 cities, but after the great famine 17 years ago, they were reduced to 12.
Mel is stunned—especially when Roger reveals that the previous Duke died during that famine, which is why he was chosen as the next Duke. Mel has never heard of a Duke dying from a famine before, and the revelation leaves her speechless.
She asks Roger how everything happened, so he explains: back then, an unprecedented number of monsters suddenly popped up in the Forest of Erzinya. Before the knights could even begin clearing them out, the magic power in the area became so dense that hordes of blood-crazed magic beasts swarmed straight toward Galbreth.
Mel had no idea the Galbreth Territory had gone through something so terrible, and Roger isn’t surprised—back then, the Duke in charge handled the crisis so efficiently that the rest of the world barely heard a whisper about it.
Many knights lost their lives, but their sacrifice paid off: the disaster was contained, and no other kingdoms were affected. When Mel asks why they didn’t get reinforcements, Roger explains that the king probably wanted to help… but the entire nation was dealing with a massive famine. You can’t exactly send backup when everyone is running on empty stomachs and stale bread.
Besides, the Knights of Galbreth took an oath to protect the kingdom with their lives. According to Roger, dying in battle is the most honorable exit a knight can ask for. He and his fellow knights swore the same oath, so if another catastrophe hits, he’ll gladly risk his life defending the realm. He tells her all this with a peaceful smile—like he’s talking about taking a pleasant stroll, not a heroic death.
Mel, understandably horrified, remembers how her mother used to smile even while slowly dying, and the thought of Roger accepting the same fate terrifies her. She begs him never to talk about giving up his life with that cheerful expression again. She can’t stand watching someone she cares about calmly embrace death.
She promises him that she will continue her research no matter what and find a way to prevent such a calamity from ever happening again.
Roger notices that Mel is upset, so he quickly apologizes for talking like he doesn’t value his own life. That’s not what he meant at all. But Mel’s frustration isn’t just about that—whether they like it or not, their lives are now tightly intertwined. So she wants to share some of that burden with him.
She grabs Roger’s hand, and even though she isn’t a knight and can’t swear a formal oath, she makes a heartfelt promise: she will do everything in her power to make sure no tragedy ever befalls him for as long as they live. Her expression is so serious that Roger is left completely speechless—like someone unplugged his brain for a moment.
He’s deeply moved, but he says he can’t put her in harm’s way. Mel, however, clarifies she’s not asking to join monster-slaying boot camp. She knows she can’t fight like the knights, but her research can still support them. She just wants him to rely on her a little instead of carrying everything alone.
When Roger sees tears welling up in her eyes, he pulls her into a gentle hug and tells her not to cry. He understands how she feels, but to him, death has always been part of the knight package—like a very depressing membership bonus.
To comfort her, he asks if she’d like to hear a story from his past. Of course Mel wants to hear it.
He begins by explaining that he was born as the second son of the previous king. He and his older brother Maxim always got along well, but the way they were treated could not have been more different. Maxim had golden hair and purple eyes, resembling the legendary King Maximus, a man famous for his wisdom. Naturally, people started calling Maxim the “Second Coming of the Great Sage.”
Roger, meanwhile, had eyesight that caused him to unintentionally store magic energy in his eyes—which freaked out half the castle. While Maxim was praised for being quick-witted and studious, Roger often lost control of his magic and accidentally blew up random parts of the castle. Let’s just say he kept the royal repair team very busy.
Still, over time, Roger grew strong enough to withstand the overwhelming magic inside his body.
By the time Roger finally learned to control his magic, the damage was already done—everyone had labeled him the “out-of-control prince.” People avoided him like he was a walking explosion waiting to happen. The only ones brave enough to approach him were the knights.
One day, Chaos was assigned to look after him. Even though Chaos was constantly criticizing him like a strict teacher grading a failing student, he ended up being the first knight to swear loyalty to Roger. Over time, the two became good friends.
Chaos could’ve easily joined the Royal Guards like his father, but instead he chose to stick with Roger, even following him to the Galbreth territory when Roger became a duke.
Back then, to stop a major succession crisis, the previous king made Roger the Duke of Galbreth—technically making him a subject under his older brother Maxim, who would inherit the throne. The kingdom had been devastated by drought and famine, and nobles were so desperate they were practically one bad day away from rebellion.
Roger doesn’t blame his father for this messy political chessboard, because the nobles were getting dangerously bold. Some even whispered that Roger should be the next king and that he should attack other nations to steal their resources. This led to a huge clash between the pro-war and anti-war factions.
In the chaos—no pun intended—Chaos’s father died, and rumors spread that the Galbreth territory was becoming overrun with monsters.
Roger had finally had enough.
He rushed to Maxim and told him he would willingly step down from the royal succession and take on the burden of becoming Duke of Galbreth so that Maxim could become king and restore stability to the kingdom.
Maxim felt awful that Roger had to shoulder such a heavy responsibility at such a young age, but there was no other option. Together, they spoke with their father. Soon after, the king publicly announced that he would abdicate, Maxim would become the next ruler, and Roger would become the Duke of Galbreth.
After becoming Duke, Roger and Maxim settled into their new roles. A few years later, Roger summoned his brother for a meeting—basically a “Hey, big bro, we need fixes” kind of talk.
First, Roger pointed out that the Knights of Galbreth faced ridiculous danger on a daily basis yet got zero benefits. Maxim agreed this was unfair. After thinking for a moment, he suggested giving any knight who served five years a promotion into the Royal Guard. Roger loved it—nothing boosts morale like the promise of a shiny new job title.
Next, Roger brought up the fact that every time a knight slayed a monster, they were basically throwing away precious materials like claws, hides, and horns. He thought the castle should buy these off the knights instead of letting them rot in a pile of “could-have-been-profit.”
Maxim approved again, saying he’d pay well as long as the materials were in good condition. (Translation: no soggy, half-chewed monster leftovers.)
With these changes, life in Galbreth improved dramatically. But Roger still believed things worked out only because he was the king’s brother, and he felt obligated to risk his life to protect the land he’d helped rebuild.
Mel, however, wasn’t having any of that martyr talk.
She cut him off and insisted they should be working to prevent catastrophes instead of glorifying heroic self-sacrifice. When Roger asked if that was even possible, Mel explained that her research focuses on extracting toxic magic from living creatures. If she can perfect the method, she might stop monsters from going mad in the first place—meaning Roger wouldn’t need to throw himself into danger constantly.
Roger was stunned. He’d never considered that there was a scientific solution to the whole “rampaging monster apocalypse” problem.
Then Mel added—quite proudly—that if she learns how to extract toxins from living beasts, she might even reverse their madness and make the meat edible again.
Roger nearly short-circuited at the idea of serving de-cursed monster steaks for dinner.
Roger couldn’t help smiling—only Mel could turn a serious conversation about life, death, and national security into “Hey, what if we cook monster meat like THIS?” moments. It’s one of the many reasons he loves her.
So, he leans in and plants a small kiss on her forehead.
Mel’s brain immediately blue-screens. She nearly faints from shock, and Roger—being Roger—finds her reactions adorable. She tries to insist he’s teasing, but he calmly states that he’s absolutely serious about how much he loves her.
Just then, Roger notices they’re nearing Galbreth territory. The massive forest below is the Özenu Forest. He’d love to take Mel sightseeing, but it’s so huge that even he has no idea where he’d end up without a map—probably in a “Congratulations, you are lost forever” situation.
Mel remembers hearing that the forest is crawling with monsters. Roger confirms it. The land is packed with magical ore, the soil is overflowing with magic, and the only creatures that can handle the environment are—you guessed it—monsters.
Mel is about to ask another question when Roger suddenly tenses. His instincts scream “danger,” and he asks Mel to get off his lap immediately. She obeys, and seconds later, Mullen radios in:
A flock of Burggon is chasing them.
Roger stays completely calm—like someone who’s used to being attacked mid-morning—and orders the knights into evasive formation. Mel takes one peek behind them and instantly regrets that life choice. The monsters look like they woke up and chose violence.
The Burggon start speeding up, so Roger tells the knights to prepare to accelerate as well. He hands Mel a pair of wind goggles so her eyes don’t get peeled off by the wind. He apologizes for “the whole monster attack thing” happening on her first visit, but Mel says it’s fine. Honestly, with her luck, she probably expected this.
Still, something feels off to Roger. Burggon don’t usually attack a whole group. If he were flying alone, sure—but with multiple knights around?
Why would these monsters risk picking a fight now?
Whatever the reason for the sudden attack, one thing is clear—they need to get out fast.
Roger tells Mel to hold on tight, then unleashes acceleration magic. The knights copy him, and Mel is blown away by how insanely fast they’re moving.
But then she notices something alarming:
The ground is getting… very… VERY close.
That’s usually a bad sign.
Roger pulls up at the last possible moment, avoiding a crash by about two heartbeats. Mel almost screams, but instead desperately tries to distract herself—by imagining how delicious the giant birds would taste.
Unfortunately, her brain immediately counters with:
“They’re probably thinking the same thing about you.”
That thought does not help.
The monsters are still right behind them. Normally, Roger would fall back and handle the situation himself, but not with Mel aboard. Instead, he orders the other knights to attack the flock and break their formation. Meanwhile, he warns Mel to brace herself because he’s going to accelerate again.
Mel boldly says he doesn’t need to worry about her…
And then Roger casts even stronger acceleration magic.
Instant regret.
They’re now moving so fast that even with goggles on, Mel can barely keep her eyes open. She’s pretty sure her face is being rearranged by the wind.
The other knights are also struggling. Mullen can’t hit anything because his aim is awful at long range, and even Zeth can’t figure out why the Burggon are being so annoyingly persistent today.
They contact Roger and suggest landing at a nearby fort to counterattack, but Roger refuses—it’s far too dangerous. Instead, they’ll keep flying until they reach the defensive line of the Galbreth territory.
That’s when Mel finally realizes the truth:
Roger is pushing this hard because he’s terrified of putting her in danger.
To make things even worse, the poor dragons are struggling because of all the junk Mel insisted on bringing along. At this point, she’s basically emotional baggage and literal baggage.
Suddenly, Mel remembers she rigged her bags to explode if anyone tried to force them open—because apparently she packs like a fantasy James Bond. They could use that as a distraction against the birds.
But Roger shuts that idea down instantly. He knows how much her stuff means to her, and he refuses to let her blow up her prized possessions—no matter how explosive her fashion choices are.
So Mel tells him to just drop her on the ground so he can fight without worrying about her, but Roger rejects that too. He insists he wouldn’t be able to protect her if he left her behind. He knows she feels like dead weight right now, but he reassures her that once they reach the defensive line, the soldiers there will keep them safe.
This comforts Mel a little, but she still wants to contribute. She can’t use attack magic, and paper magic circles don’t exactly work well while airborne. Then she remembers the flask of magic Xanna’s blood she’s been carrying around like a pocket apocalypse.
Roger mentioned before that just one of these flasks contains enough magic to create a weapon of mass destruction—so naturally, Mel decides, “Yeah, let’s use this.”
But simply throwing the flask won’t be enough to take out the entire flock. So she scribbles down every ancient magic circle she can think of to crank the destructive power up to “please-don’t-drop-this.”
She hands the flask to Roger and tells him to put some of his bodily fluids on it so he can activate the spell. This nearly makes Roger drop the thing in confusion. Mel quickly clarifies: his magic flows through his fluids, so he needs to activate the spell because he’s the strongest mage here.
Roger takes a closer look and is stunned. She loaded it with explosion, eruption, fire, gust, blaze—basically every spell except “do my homework.”
He realizes he’s now holding a tiny, handheld doomsday device…
…and starts laughing because he cannot believe he’s about to nuke birds with a magic condiment bottle.
Roger slices his hand to smear some of his blood on the flask, activating the spell. While doing so, he casually asks Mel when she even had time to think up this “ancient-circle-super-bomb” idea. Mel admits she literally thought of it a few seconds ago.
Roger is impressed—Mel is more worried about his cut. She begs him to let her treat it once they’re safe, and Roger happily agrees, as long as they survive long enough for first aid to matter.
He quickly issues new orders to his knights: everyone should prep as much acceleration magic as they can, because once he gives the signal, they’re going to blast off at top speed. Except Mullen—Roger tells him to stay put because he has a special mission for him.
When Roger reaches the rear, he explains the plan: Mullen needs to act as a decoy and fly straight into the flock of monsters. Mullen’s first thought is, “Oh great, I’m being sacrificed.” But Roger assures him that’s not it—he just needs Mullen to distract the monsters long enough for Roger to use Mel’s magical nuke. And he orders him not to die.
The moment Mullen dives into the flock, the monsters scatter into chaos—exactly as planned. Roger waits until Mullen escapes the blast zone, then yeets Mel’s flask directly at one of the birds. The bird swallows it without hesitation (a decision it will regret), and Roger tells Mel to sit tight.
A moment later, a massive eruption of magical energy detonates, releasing pressure so heavy it might as well come with a warning label. Roger calmly tells Mel to brace herself because the spells she stacked are about to go wild.
The energy then condenses into a gigantic fireball—big enough to make Oppenheimer whisper, “Dude, chill.” Mel is horrified because she never expected this level of boom, and even the knights think it was overkill.
But hey—it worked. Their monster problem is officially barbecue.
Mullen survived, the sky is safe, and Mel is only sad that all that monster meat got flash-fried before they could eat any of it.
Mel is absolutely mortified when she realizes what she’s created. She was so busy daydreaming about delicious monster meat that she never stopped to consider that pure magic extract could double as a nation-destroying superweapon. Turns out Roger wasn’t exaggerating.
Worried, she asks if her research is too dangerous. Seeing how seriously she’s taking it, Roger immediately reassures her. He tells her he won’t let anyone criticize her work and encourages her to pursue her craft wholeheartedly. Besides, he points out that magic extract isn’t just for blowing things up—it can be used as cooking fuel, for heating homes, and for plenty of peaceful purposes.
He even suggests they start using it in the Galbraith region right away since people there would love an alternative to firewood, especially during harsh winters. Hearing this, Mel brightens up. Back home, no one ever cared about her research, so she never imagined it could improve people’s lives. Roger’s support means the world to her.
Roger then tells her he’s grateful to her—without her quick thinking, those monsters would still be chasing them around like angry pigeons at a bakery. Mel insists the spell’s power mostly came from Roger, since he was the only one with enough magic to activate all those rushed magic circles. Roger just smiles and calls it teamwork.
And then… Roger suggests they should go monster hunting together sometime.
Mel’s soul briefly leaves her body from sheer joy. She immediately asks if he’s serious, already imagining all the fun adventures they could have.
Roger answers calmly: he’s not joking at all.
Mel starts celebrating the promise of future monster-hunting dates, but her moment of joy is cut short when Claude comes zooming in like a panicked pigeon. He heard a gigantic explosion and assumed Roger was in mortal danger.
Roger calmly tells him he’s a bit late—the “problem” was already solved by him and Mel. Claude is relieved… until he learns Roger caused that nuclear-level blast. Then he immediately switches to yelling mode, scolding him for using such a ridiculously destructive spell in the middle of nowhere.
Mel timidly raises her hand to confess that she was technically the one who built the magical bomb, but before she can get a word out, the soldiers who arrived with Claude swarm them. They’re thrilled to finally meet Roger’s bride and start showering Mel with compliments. Mel, unused to such kindness, practically short-circuits.
They soon arrive at the heart of the Galbraith territory—the mid-region surrounding Roger’s castle. Mel notices that the castle looks suspiciously like a fortress. Roger explains that’s exactly what it used to be. Before the city grew around it, this was a monster-defense stronghold, and even now some people still call it a “fortress city.”
Mel nervously asks if monsters can still wander this far from the forest. Roger admits that, yes, a stray creature occasionally pops up, but it’s nothing compared to the old days. Life here is mostly peaceful now.
Mel stares in awe at the massive, beautifully constructed walls—completely unlike anything from her hometown. Roger explains further: long ago, the forest was much closer, and people lived in constant fear. After the cataclysm, things got even worse… until the new defense line was pulled back, giving citizens a safer zone to rebuild.
Mel looks down at the base of the city walls and spots patches of scorched earth. Naturally, she assumes it’s the aftermath of one of Roger’s heroic “I-destroyed-a-monster-again” moments. Roger insists it’s not nearly as dramatic as she thinks and tells her not to worry.
They prepare to enter the city. Roger orders Mullen to notify the guards so they can open the massive front gate, and he tells Claude to gather Mel’s mountain of baggage and deliver it to the castle later—preferably without triggering any of her “exploding luggage traps.”
Roger then flies through the long tunnel-like entrance with Mel. He explains that they have to go through here because a magical barrier is currently covering the city to stop aerial monsters from swooping in for a surprise visit. Mel is impressed, but Roger admits the barrier guzzles mana like a thirsty dragon, so they can’t keep it activated 24/7.
They probably turned it on because of the earlier monster attack, which makes Mel worry that another flock might show up. Roger tells her they should stay alert for the rest of the day—just in case.
But aside from that, it’s time for the grand moment.
Roger smiles warmly and officially welcomes Mel… to his city.
