Sera stopped in front of a quaint two-story shophouse. The building exuded an old-world charm, with flower boxes brimming with colorful blooms adorning the windowsills. Above the door, a hand-painted sign swayed gently in the breeze, the words "Frieda's Florals" scripted in flowing letters.

Sera turned to Zoha, adjusting a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Shall I go in?"

Zoha nodded. "By all means, go ahead, Mistress."

Satisfied, Sera nodded in return and pushed open the shop door. A small bell tinkled softly above as a human girl looked up from behind the counter, pausing in the midst of arranging a bouquet. Her eyes widened as she saw them enter. "Miss Zoha! Madam Frieda's condition has worsened."

Zoha immediately stepped forward. "What happened?"

The girl wrung her hands. "She's been getting weaker by the hour. Her breathing is shallow, and she hasn't been able to eat anything. I... I don't know what to do."

Zoha placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "You've done enough, we'll handle it from here."

The demoness led Sera upstairs with an urgent pace, the wooden stairs creaked under their weight, adding an eerie echo to their ascent. As they reached the upper floor, the scent of flowers was replaced by the sterile smell of illness.

Frieda was lying on a bed in the center of the room, looking gaunt and frail. Her skin was pale and sallow, stretched thin over her bones, and her eyes were sunken and dull. Wisps of gray hair clung to her forehead, and her breathing was shallow and labored. A human mother, adoptive or not, was not something I had expected from Zoha. Still, she will owe me if I cure her mother, and it will not cost me anything.

Sera approached the bed and knelt beside Frieda, hovering her hands over the old woman's chest. Closing her eyes, Sera took a deep breath, channeling her magic. A soft, green light emanated from her hands, growing brighter and more intense with each passing second.

The light enveloped Frieda, its warmth penetrating her frail body. Sera could feel the life force flowing from her, a gentle but powerful current of energy. She focused on the rhythm of Frieda's heartbeat, matching her breaths to the old woman's shallow inhales and exhales. The light pulsed in time with their synchronized breathing, infusing Frieda with vitality and strength.

Gradually, color returned to Frieda's cheeks. Her breathing steadied, becoming deeper and more regular. The lines of pain and exhaustion on her face softened, replaced by an almost serene expression. Sera continued to channel her magic until she felt the last vestiges of illness leave Frieda's body.

When she finally withdrew her hands, the room was silent, save for the steady, rhythmic sound of Frieda's breathing. That should be sufficient.

But in a matter of seconds, Zoha was unable to contain herself any longer and rushed forward. She wrapped her arms around Frieda in a tight embrace, clutching the fabric of the blanket with desperate relief.

"Mom!" Zoha cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're okay!"

Frieda smiled and hugged Zoha back. Tears of relief glistened in Frieda's eyes as well, creating tiny, sparkling trails down her weathered cheeks. Then, she looked over Zoha's shoulder, looking towards Sera with gratitude.

"Words cannot express how grateful I am for what you did, thank you, really."

"It was nothing, really."

"No need to be so humble." Frieda said with a chuckle. "But, I've never seen a healer like you before. What is your name?"

Sera stood up slowly, brushing her hands on her cloak. "You can call me Sera. More importantly, how do you feel?"

Frieda took a moment to assess herself, moving her limbs with tentative curiosity. She wiggled her fingers and flexed her arms, then sat up with surprising ease."I feel great, Better than I have in years. I don't know how to thank you."

Sera nodded and let out a slight smile. "Your recovery is thanks enough,"

"Mist—Sera, thank you for saving her!" Zoha exclaimed, catching herself mid-sentence.

"It's nothing, really. I was more than happy to help," Sera said. She made a point of looking directly at Frieda as she spoke with a warm expression. A touch of humility in her eyes made her sincerity shine through. It never hurts to try and maintain a good image.

Frieda swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up with surprising agility. Her movements were smooth, and she took a moment to relish the strength she felt coursing through her body. "Please, let me make you some tea to thank you for everything."

Sera shook her head. "Thank you, but I should—"

"Are you sure?" Frieda interrupted gently. "I also have cookies and pastries fresh from the bakery."

At the mention of pastries, Sera's resolve crumbled. She couldn't resist the thought of a sweet treat. "Well, in that case, I suppose I could stay for a bit longer."

"Well, come on down then!"

The three of them headed to the lower floor. Frieda moved with newfound vigor, bustling about as she laid out an assortment of cookies and pastries on a small, round table before grabbing some tea.

Zoha took a seat at the polished table. She adjusted her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Sera joined her, her gaze lingering on the assortment of treats and pastries laid out before them.

Frieda moved gracefully around the table as she poured the tea, the rich amber liquid cascading into porcelain cups with a gentle, soothing sound. As everyone settled in, Zoha lifted her cup and took a sip, savoring the flavors and the comforting heat that spread through her. Across the table, Sera reached for a pastry, feeling the flaky crust beneath her touch.

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But suddenly, a sudden knock echoed through the shop. All three women paused, their attention snapping toward the door.

"Don't worry, I'll get it." Frieda said.

She moved toward the door, grasped the handle and pulled the door open, revealing a familiar figure standing on the threshold. "Dante!"

Dante stepped inside, his broad smile lighting up his face as he enveloped Frieda in a warm hug. "Hey mom."

Zoha's eyes narrowed slightly, "Dante, what are you doing here?" Her posture stiffened, and she set her cup down with a faint clink.

Dante's expression shifted instantly, his smile fading into a serious frown. He pulled back from the embrace. "I need to talk, it's really important."

But as his gaze swept the room and landed on Sera, he nearly jumped back. He froze, eyes wide with shock, the color draining slightly from his face.

Frieda noticed his reaction and frowned with concern. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Dante shook his head quickly, trying to regain his composure. "I-I'm fine, Mom,"

He glanced at Sera again. "I just wasn't expecting... to see someone new here."

Sera leaned back in her chair, fingers lightly tapping the edge of her teacup. "Dante, you should join us for tea, I'm sure you could use some rest."

Before Dante could respond, Frieda clapped her hands together. "That's an excellent idea! Come, sit," she urged, pulling over a chair and patting it invitingly.

Reluctantly, he sank into the chair. Frieda beamed at him, eyes warm with affection. "I'll just get some more tea. You three catch up," she said, bustling off deeper into the shop.

An awkward silence settled over the table as Frieda left the room. Zoha sipped her tea, looking nervously between Sera and Dante. The delicate porcelain cup clinked softly against its saucer as she set it down, fingers fidgeting slightly.

Meanwhile, Sera slowly reached for a pastry. The flaky crust crumbled softly under her fingers, a few golden crumbs falling onto the plate as she took a bite. The rich, buttery flavor melted on her tongue. I'll give it a few more seconds.

Dante finally broke the silence. "So, uh, are you Zoha's mistress?" he asked, his gaze flickering between Sera and his sister.

Sera arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes as she feigned innocence. "What makes you think that?"

"I put two and two together when I saw Zoha and Mom looking healthy. Plus, the way Zoha defers to you… it wasn't hard to figure out."

Sera smiled as she lightly traced the rim of her teacup. "Aren't you a smart one?" Tell you what, I'll give you one chance to convince me not to force you into a contract as well."

Dante's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'll work with you. I never had any intention of going against an elder dryad, it's a losing game."

"Very well," Sera said, taking another sip of her tea. "As a reward for your cooperation, I'll spare you from a contract... for now."

Zoha watched the exchange with a mix of curiosity and relief, her fingers lightly drumming on the table. Dante relaxed further, reaching for a cookie and taking a tentative bite. The silence that followed was more comfortable as tension eased from the room.

Soon, Frieda returned with a fresh pot of tea. "I hope you're all getting along," she said, pouring the steaming liquid into their cups.

Sera nodded. "We are, Frieda. Thank you for the tea. It's lovely."

Frieda beamed, her hands busy arranging the remaining pastries on a delicate porcelain plate. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, her voice filled with warmth. She placed the plate in the center of the table, her gaze lingering on the three of them with a satisfied air.

Dante cleared his throat politely. "Uh, mom, there's something I need to discuss with just Sera and Zoha. Do you mind leaving us alone for a bit?"

"Always keeping secrets from me, Dante," Frieda teased, shaking her head playfully.

Dante smiled sheepishly. "It's nothing personal, Mom. Just something we need to handle."

Frieda sighed dramatically. "Alright, I'll leave you all to it. But remember, Dante, you'll have to tell me all your secrets eventually."

Zoha gave Frieda a grateful smile. "Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome, dear. I'll be upstairs if you need anything." With that, Frieda turned and ascended the stairs, leaving the three of them alone.

An awkward silence settled over the room once more. Zoha fidgeted slightly, fingers tracing patterns on the teacup in front of her. But this time, it was Sera who broke the silence. "So, Dante, why did you come here?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "There are two reasons. First, I wanted to check on Frieda and make sure she was alright. Second, I just had an encounter with an inquisitor."

"And why would an inquisitor be of note?"

"Mistress, inquisitors in Lizeria are very powerful figures." Zoha said. "Their recruitment process is secretive, and they are known for their strength and influence. I've never seen one in person, so if Dante met one, it can't be good news."

Dante nodded in agreement. "The inquisitor tried to kill me and got awfully close too."

Sera's eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me everything."

Dante took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. "I was rehearsing for a performance in the city. Everything was going smoothly until an inquisitor with blue hair and red eyes showed up. From the moment I saw her, I had a bad feeling. But I pretended to play it cool at first."

"What happened after that?"

"The inquisitor started asking around for information regarding dungeons," Dante continued, his brow furrowing at the memory. He picked up a cookie, breaking it in half absentmindedly. "She was persistent, and it was clear she was looking for information regarding dungeons. It went well enough at first, but then she started threatening me and things escalated from there."

Sera noted this, her fingers tapping the rim of her teacup. "You said earlier you almost died to this inquisitor. How did it come to that?"

Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I believe this inquisitor is an angel, I have no idea how the Inquisition managed to get their hands on one, but her power was unmistakable. It's only a matter of time before she hunts us down."

Zoha twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. "The bad feeling I had a long time ago... it must have been that inquisitor reawakening."

"I felt it too. And now, I'm not sure how to deal with an angel." Dante said.

"Think for a moment," Sera said, leaning forward and placing her hands flat on the table. "Angels are powerful beings who don't normally mix with mortals, let alone serve them. The Lizerians must have put the angel under some kind of mind control."

"You might be right. When I was fighting her, there was a moment when she clutched her head as if in pain. It was brief, but noticeable."

"That means we still have time. From my understanding, this inquisitor must have originally been sent to investigate my dungeon after Prince Leo's death. You, Dante, unfortunately got caught in the investigation."

"I understand that much, Mistress. But do you have a plan?" Zoha asked.

Sera leaned back, drumming her fingers on the table. "For now, I'll continue to rebuild the Black Eagles and funnel more people into my dungeon. I foresee a possible conflict with this inquisitor in the future, and we need to be prepared.

Meanwhile, Dante, you should lay low for a while. Keep your eyes and ears open, and inform Zoha if you find anything important."

"Yes Ma'am." Dante said, smiling slightly as he did a mock salute.