[V4C6] That Time My Revered Master Tried to Sacrifice a Black Cat

Isaac, who returned to Monica’s place after a long absence, looked up at the house while repeatedly clenching and unclenching his hands. Despite wearing gloves, his fingertips still felt cold. He was nervous.

Isaac could excel in anything he tried, and rarely experienced stiffness in his movements due to nervousness.

…Yet, at this moment, he was terribly nervous.

(Can I speak with Monica as usual?)

What flashed through his mind was the incident at the Starseer Witch’s party. Monica had gotten embarrassed in front of Cyril. She displayed the face of a maiden in love.

(…Did she become aware of her feelings?)

Once that happened, surely there would be no chance for him. Isaac knew how Cyril felt about Monica.

The strange equilibrium that barely held this relationship together would surely collapse the moment one of them became aware of their romantic feelings.

What’s more troublesome, Isaac didn’t dislike Cyril.

(If only I could hate Cyril… I’m terrible for even thinking that.)

Isaac awkwardly lifted his hand and knocked on the door. There was no response.

Using the spare key he had made when he became Monica’s disciple, Isaac opened the door and entered.

There was no sign of anyone inside. It seemed like Monica was out.

(Gone at this hour…? Perhaps she is having lunch with Miss Colette?)

Isaac quickly tidied up his luggage and lit the fireplace. Although the weather was good today, he wanted to make sure Monica wouldn’t feel cold when she returned. Monica was actually quite sensitive to the cold.

He decided to prepare a warm drink for the chilly little squirrel.

The front door opened while he was making lemonade in the kitchen. Monica had returned.

The tense Isaac put on his usual smile and poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Hey, welcome back, Monica.”

There was no response. The anxiety of being ignored made Isaac’s heart produce an unpleasant creaking sound.

However, upon closer inspection, Monica wasn’t ignoring Isaac. She didn’t seem to have noticed him at all.

The frantic Monica was flailing her arms as she rushed up the stairs.

Then she came back just as quickly, running down the stairs with a clattering sound. Nero’s basket was in her arms.

Monica wore an unusually intense expression. To put it mildly, she had an unapproachable aura.

Isaac watched as Monica placed the basket with the sleeping Nero in front of the fireplace. She began shoving firewood into the flames.

Not only that, but she also started several small fires using chantless magic, surrounding Nero’s basket.

The scene appeared somewhat like a mysterious ritual with a black cat as the sacrifice.

(My master seems to be in serious trouble.)

Isaac calmly decided to open a window for ventilation. The still frantic Monica was shaking the basket where Nero slept.

“Nero, wake up… Nero… Nero…”

Apparently, this was a ritual for awakening a black dragon in hibernation.

Nero let out a few sleepy meows, but eventually gave in and lifted one eye drowsily.

“Mmm…? Is it spring yet…?”

As Nero rubbed his face with his front paws, Monica lifted him up to the level of her face.

Looking him straight in the eyes, Monica questioned Nero in a low tone.

“Nero, did you meet Lana? When?”

“Nnn, oh, Lana’s a good one. She gave me some food…”

“…When was this?”

“When you went to take care of the peas at the Chilly Guy’s place…”

“That long ago!?”

Despite Monica screaming with a cracked voice, Nero yawned lazily.

“Nyafah~… Lana said she’d treat me to delicious chicken… Mmm… I’m still sleepy, so wake me up in a month or so…”

“Nero, wait, don’t sleep! Hey, what else did you talk about with Lana? Tell me, Nero…!”

Monica shook Nero vigorously, but the cat was already comfortably asleep without a care in the world.

As if all hope was lost, Monica held Nero to her chest and fell to the ground.

“Nero… Ugh…!”

“You seem to be a bit troubled,” Isaac said as he approached. Monica, who was still holding Nero to her chest, looked up at Isaac in surprise.

“Oh, Ike, welcome back.”

“Yeah, I’m back. So did something happen between Miss Colette and Nero?”

In response, Monica turned pale and nodded vigorously. After putting Nero back in his basket, Monica faced Isaac directly and explained with a serious expression.

“I, um, borrowed a romance novel from Isabelle-sama.”

“…Huh?”

Isaac was perplexed by the term “romance novel” coming from Monica.

Despite his shock, Monica continued with complete seriousness.

“In romance novels, the heroine blushes and looks enraptured while calling the prince ‘wonderful.’ So, blushing and saying ‘wonderful’ equals being in love with that person.”

Although not entirely wrong, something felt off.

Before Isaac could point out the discrepancy, Monica clenched her fist and earnestly insisted.

“Earlier, Lana called Nero ‘wonderful’! She even blushed a bit and seemed a bit enraptured… So, applying the formula I just mentioned, Lana must be in love with Nero…!”

Isaac gently wrapped his hands around Monica’s clenched fist and spoke in a meltingly sweet voice.

“My dear master, who cares so deeply about her friends, is truly wonderful.”

“…? Thank you. But, um, right now, it’s not about me; it’s about Lana. Nero once said he ‘has no lust for tailless females,’ so how am I supposed to resolve this…?”

“…”

Apparently, his blushing intensity and enraptured level were insufficient.

(Setting that aside, did Miss Colette really fall for Nero? Hmm…)

It wasn’t entirely impossible, but Monica’s conclusion seemed premature.

However, Monica appeared to be genuinely distressed, caught between her friend’s romance and the true identity of her familiar.

(Let’s see…)

First and foremost, it was essential to confirm the facts. Isaac stood up and gestured for Monica to sit.

“Monica, just sit down for now. How about a warm lemonade? It’ll help you calm down.”

“Ugh, ugh… I want to support Lana… but Nero is…”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, it’s not confirmed that Miss Colette has fallen in love with Nero.”

Upon hearing Isaac’s words, Monica made the face of a student being corrected for their mistakes.

“…Is that so?”

“But I haven’t witnessed the scene myself… What did Miss Colette say?”

“Umm… ‘He was so wonderful. I’d love to meet him and have a chat’…”

Isaac found that a bit ambiguous.

He didn’t know Lana Colette as well as Monica did, but Lana seemed like the type who was more interested in the attire and accessories worn by a man rather than the man himself.

It might be more reasonable to assume that she was interested in what Nero wore.

“Monica, perhaps we can talk to Miss Colette about this on another day? Regardless of her intentions, Nero is currently in hibernation.”

“R-Right… I kind of rushed home to question Nero… I’ll talk to Lana again.”

Finally able to catch her breath, Monica sighed, lowered her shoulders, and smiled awkwardly.

“Thanks for helping, Ike. You’re really dependable.”

“It’s an honor to have you rely on me.”

Isaac smiled back at Monica with a slight grin.

“Ike, you’re an advanced expert in love. Amazing.”

“…”

——Even for this advanced expert in love, dealing with someone like you is no easy task.

Isaac muttered silently to himself with a wry smile.

＊　＊　＊

“Why did Monica get so flustered? I wonder what happened?”

While gazing in the direction Monica ran off, Lana tilted her head.

Maybe Monica had sensed that she was in a hurry and rushed off to contact Bartholomew Alexander.

(I wonder if Bartholomew-san always stays at Monica’s house. Or does he live somewhere else most of the time? Well, if he’s in the country, we should be able to just barely reach him in time.)

As Lana considered the arrangements for inviting Bartholomew, Clifford stared down at Lana with a piercing gaze.

“Who is Bartholomew Alexander?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Lana turned up her nose, as if in retaliation for him scaring Monica, so Clifford fell silent.

“More importantly, I’m going to Porok-san’s place to submit the new design proposal! Cliff, please take care of things while I’m gone! Bye!”

Lana flipped the hem of her skirt and headed towards Porok’s workshop.

Meanwhile, Clifford simply stared at Lana’s back with the gray eyes behind his glasses.

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