When Alistair woke up, his whole body felt like it was on fire, yet at the same time, everything around him felt so cold and wet. The feeling was disgusting, and the stark contrast of temperatures made him shiver.

  "Good morning," Melina greeted him cheerfully.

  "Melina, where are we?" He asked, looking around. It was hard to open his eyes, and everything looked dark.

  "We're in the beach house, remember? After I rescued you from the sea," she explained.

  He turned his head towards her. She was sitting by the bed, looking at him. But something felt strange about her eyes. They looked the same as always—striking blue in the clear summer sky. But something wasn't right. As if something was missing.

  "Rescued from the sea," he repeated, hoping to make sense of the situation. His mind was hazy, likely from the fever.

  He should be feeling comforted by Melina's presence. After all, who else could he trust if not her? But all he felt was cold and dampness that lingered all around him. His skin felt pruned up, as if he had been sitting in a cold bath for far too long. The air smelled of mold or mildew, he didn't know which one specifically.

  "Yes. It's going to be alright now," Melina said, putting her cold, damp hand on his forehead. But why did they feel cold? Her hands were always warm.

  Alistair reached out and took her hand, cradling it between his hands.

  "You're going to feel better soon," she cooed, not resisting at all. But her face didn't have a twinge of color in it. Usually, her cheeks would turn a cute rosy color whenever he'd touch her.

  It was odd. He pulled her hand closer to his face, hoping to smell the familiar scent of bread, yeast, and sugar that always surrounded her body. Even when Melina was preparing for the bakery's opening and wasn't cooking, the pleasant scent still clung to her skin. As if it had become a part of who she was.

  But he couldn't smell it now. Instead, Melina's hand smelled like seawater and algae. Something wasn't right. He forced himself upright.

  "You can sleep some more if you're tired," Melina said with a sweet smile.

  "No. We should get going. Gilbert will be worried about you, and I need to see my father," he said, pulling himself out of bed. His body resisted, feeling heavy and sluggish.

  "We'll explain everything once you're better. You're in no condition to go anywhere," she quickly interjected, trying to push him gently back into the bed.

  For a moment, it felt like she was right. Where could he go in this condition? He was barely able to sit up. It would be better to stay in bed and rest. He had to rest.

  "That's right. Just lie down and rest. Let me take care of everything," Melina cooed, running her cold hands through his hair.

  Suddenly, a burst of light flew inside the shack through the crack underneath. It flew straight at Alistair.

  Melina screamed and jumped back. "What the hell is that?"

  Her voice didn't sound like her own—it was completely foreign, somewhat guttural. The gentle expression also disappeared, leaving one of visceral disgust. He'd never seen Melina make such an ugly face.

  Meanwhile, the light circled Alistair gently. It was warm and pleasant, so he reached out to it.

  "Don't touch it," the fake Melina screamed, but Alistair didn't listen to her. He touched the light, feeling warm mana fill him with strength—Melina's mana.

  "You've done it again," Alistair smiled. Such a long distance separated them, yet somehow his beloved still found a way to help him. The mana she sent him wasn't a lot, but it was enough for him to realize how foolish he'd been.

  "A-Are you alright?" The fake Melina came up to him shakily.

  Alistair didn't hesitate. He jumped out of the bed and grabbed the impostor by the neck, choking them without mercy. "How dare you take the form of my beloved? Explain yourself, or I'll gut you where you stand!"

  "W-What are you doing?! I-I am Me—"

  "Don't you even dare to utter her name!" He snarled, tightening his grip. The monster choked, and the disguise finally disappeared. In place of Melina stood a siren—humanoid creature covered in fish-like scales, webbed hands and feet, and gill-like ears.

  He hadn't encountered them often in his time as a [General]; they were sea monsters who sustained themselves on ambient mana. Unfortunately, the Human Realm didn't have enough ambient mana for sirens to survive, so they often resorted to draining whatever mana and lifeforce they could from humans. This siren likely chose to save Alistair to sustain itself from his mana for a while.

  "Go back where you came from, monster," Alistair said, shoving the creature to the floor.

  It coughed and snarled at Alistair. He could feel that it was preparing to use some magic, so he used , smashing his knee into its chest. The siren keeled over on the floor, coughing in a violent fit.

  "Do that again and I'll snap your neck!" He warned.

  "Do it! Save me the trouble of starving to death," the siren spat in beneath coughs. "I don't do this because I want to, but what choice do I have? You humans don't care what happens to monsters who end up in your world! You just scream and try to kill us. Might as well just do it quickly and spare us the suffering."

  Alistair hadn't expected that outburst. If he were still a [General], then he likely would have granted the monster's request. But he wasn't. Melina didn't want to walk the same bloody path, and he didn't either.

  "Why did you even come to the Human Realm?" Alistair asked.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "As if I wanted to?! I was just minding my own business when one day, one of the passageways went crazy. Many others of my kind and I found ourselves in this mana-starved world, getting closer to death with each breath we drew!" Siren snarled, clutching on its neck, gently rubbing at the places where Alistair had choked it.

  He suddenly felt a bit bad for his outburst. This siren was forced to resort to the only way it knew how to survive because it was literally starving. Could he really be angry at it? The Church certainly wouldn't reach out a helping hand, although, logically thinking, would it even be difficult to send them back to the Monster Realm?

  After all, the sirens didn't want to be here. Who would want to live in a world where they'd be constantly fighting death? All one had to do was send them back.

  "You want to return to the Monster Realm?" He asked.

  "Of course, I do! I would have long since gone back home. My brethren and I searched the whole sea for a passageway, but the one we found was guarded by you humans. They killed us as soon as we tried to approach," the siren said.

  Alistair thought about it for a moment, then addressed the siren. "Can you walk on land?"

  "To an extent, but even staying in this damp place out of water is agonizing. There is no way I could stray far away from the sea," it denied.

  "Do you think you could find a town called Sunglow?" He asked.

  "Sunglow?"

  "The girl you were impersonating lives there, along with an elf. If you could find them, they'd help you get back to Monster Realm."

  "Humans? Help us, monsters? Are you insane?" The siren screeched.

  "You're welcome to wander the seas until you starve to death," Alistair countered, then looked around the shack. He found a few old books on the shelves and hurriedly tore out one of the emptier pages. There was no pencil or ink anywhere, so I went to the hearth and used the ash and a thin piece of wood to write with.

  Melina, I am fine. On my way to Fenrora. Please, help this siren back to the Monster Realm. –Alistair

  He looked around the shack some more, searching for someplace to put the note in. There were a few empty wine bottles near the end of the bed, so he took one of those, rolled up the note, and pushed it inside. He then placed the cork back in, making sure it was secure, and passed the bottle to the siren.

  "What am I supposed to do with this?" The siren asked, looking at the bottle.

  "Give it to Melina and she'll help you," Alistair explained.

  "Why would a human help a monster?"

  "She'll help. I'm certain of it," Alistair said firmly, offering the bottle to the siren again.

  "Why are you trying to help me?"

  "Because you did save my life," Alistair said. Without the siren, he would have undoubtedly drowned.

  The siren stared at the bottle for a moment, then reluctantly took it. "If this doesn't work, then I'll come back to haunt you as a ghost."

  "You're welcome to do so," Alistair said with a nod.

  The siren gave him an appraising look, then ran out to the shack, heading straight for the sea. There was still a drizzle outside, but the storm had largely passed. The question was—how could he get to Fenrora now?

  Melina was barely able to concentrate on her work. On more than one occasion, the fruits flew up to the ceiling, and bowls crashed down onto the floor as Melina lost her concentration. Roxie and Adrien were both running around, trying to keep everything in order, while Sienna chittered at Melina in displeasure, clearly warning her to be more careful.

  "I know, Sienna! I know! But I can't help but worry," Melina said, mending one of the glass bowls for the fourth time that morning.

  "What are you so worried about, Miss Melina?" Adrien asked, eating one of the tarts that had been accidentally placed on the table upside down. It was still fine to eat but the shell was broken and the fruits bruised.

  "About her husband, of course!" Roxie clarified. "There was a storm at sea! Hadn't you heard?"

  "What does the storm at sea have to do with her husband?" The boy asked in confusion.

  "He was on his way to Fenrora," Roxie explained, then turned to Melina. "I'm sure they managed to get through the storm just fine. The sailors are experienced after all."

  Sadly, Roxie's words brought no comfort whatsoever. Melina knew Alistair had fallen overboard during the storm. She knew the siren had brought him to the shore, so he was at no risk of drowning. But he was at the mercy of a siren. Melina had done her best to help him, sending a bit of mana to him using his connection to Mango.

  But she didn't even know whether it reached him. If it did, was it enough to dispel the siren's illusion. Did he realize that Melina wasn't actually there? She dearly hoped so. Melina had already sent a letter to Duke Sinclair through the Guildmaster to find out whether Alistair had reached his home safely. If he hasn't, then she would instantly set out to search for him.

  Perhaps it would have been better if she had gone to search for him right away? Even if he realized it was a siren, could he even fight it in his weakened state without a sword?

  "Yip-yip!" Mango looked up at her with a piteous gaze.

  She realized that the fox must have felt her fear and nervousness.

  "I'm sorry, Mango!" Melina said, picking up the fox and holding her close. "He's fine, isn't he?"

  "Yip-yip!" Mango confirmed, sounding certain of it.

  "You're right. He's a grown man. Strongest man I know, in fact. He can take care of himself."

  "Yip-yip!" Mango confirmed.

  "Will we be able to open this morning?" Adrien asked nervously. "We don't have much ready."

  "We'll be ready," Melina confirmed, standing up with newfound determination. She would believe in Alistair. He wasn't a fool. He would find a way to overcome this trial. Meanwhile, Melina would focus on her own problems. After all, she still had to prepare that chocolate cake for Heilia.

  "Focus, Melina. At this rate, you'll never master the cake," Gilbert chastised.

  The day had been difficult. She just barely got through the service with the use of , which reached Rank B. Despite her trying to convince herself again and again that Alistair was alright, she still worried about him. It was all she could think about.

  Baking did manage to ease her mind for a moment, but only while she was in the process. So instead of relaxing in the evening, she insisted on working on Heilia's cake.

  "Sorry! I-I'm just—"

  "Worried. Yes, child. You've said that many times. And I'll tell you again that your man isn't made out of cotton candy. If you know he didn't drown, then you can be sure that he recognized the siren," Gilbert said with a huff.

  "But how can you be so sure?" Melina demanded.

  "Would you not be able to tell a disguised siren from him?" He asked.

  "Of course, I could! Sirens can only mimic appearance and voice. They don't know our personalities or mannerisms—"

  "There's your answer. Now focus on the cake. Heilia is very picky," the old baker said.

  "She is?"

  "Yes. Only ever eats her favorites. Why do you think she never comes to the bakery?"

  "I thought she just didn't like sweets," Melina shrugged.

  "We sell more than just sweets," Gilbert pointed out. "In either case, you have to get this right if you want to repay her for… you know what."

  Gilbert had been less than thrilled with Melina's use of spirit grass. But she had thrown it all up. It wasn't a problem.

  "Let's get to it. I'm ready!" Melina said.

  "I hope you are! This isn't your regular sponge. Chocolate cake is much harder to get right."

  She forced herself to smile. After all, the whole journey started because of a chocolate cake. But her mind was still far away, wondering about Alistair's well-being. She prayed that he'd return home to taste this cake.