He was probably expecting some kind of epic moment, but I already made a decision.

I would rather carve every single energy stone in this room.

Then carve every stone in the storage.

Then carve every stone in the empire.

And only then—on the last day of my life—would I consider touching that cursed stone again.

Soren gently set me down on the worktable. "I’ll leave you here first," he said, patting my head. "I still have documents to sign."

My ears perked up. ’He was leaving?’ Already?’

"Nyang!"

Translation: Finally!

I waved my paw enthusiastically. "B-Bye Soren!"

He chuckled.

Then suddenly reached forward and pinched my cheeks.

"Nyang!"

Translation: Hey—!

"You’re like a talking toy," he said with a grin.

’Excuse me??? A toy? I am a professional sculptress! A future carving legend! A—’

He turned away before I could protest further and as he walked towards the door, he called out calmly. "Mikael."

And like a ghost summoned from the shadows, Mikael immediately appeared beside him.

Seriously... He was just beside Agatha who was just behind me. How did he get there fast?

I silently watched them when Soren glanced at him to which Mikael shook his head slightly.

My ears twitched. ’That was suspicious.’

What was that about?

What were they communicating?

Was Mikael reporting something?

Did he discover the fake package?

Did he—

No.

No no no.

Focus.

Focus on the stones.

I quickly pushed that thought aside and turned my attention back to the table. The boxes of energy stones sat open before me like treasure chests.

My eyes sparkled again. Yes, this is more Important.

Operation: Carve an energy stone as a gift for Soren.

I dove headfirst into the nearest box.

Literally.

My entire upper body disappeared into the pile of stones as I began rummaging through them.

I casually tossed the rejected stones over my shoulder.

Clink.

Thunk.

Clatter.

Agatha gasped behind me. "My—!"

Her hands shot out like lightning as she caught one of the flying stones midair.

Another one bounced off her sleeve.

She grabbed that too.

"M-My Lady, please be careful with the energy stones!" she said nervously, quickly placing the rescued stones into a separate pile.

I didn’t even look back because right now, I was in serious artisan mode.

When another stone flew out of the box, Agatha caught it.

Another one rolled off the table, she snatched it before it could hit the floor.

Her expression looked like someone trying to prevent a toddler from throwing expensive porcelain plates.

"My Lady—!"

I ignored her completely. ’Relax. They were just rough stones. I could polish them later. Maybe. Probably or... Never.’

After digging around for another minute, my paw finally brushed against something interesting.

I slowly pulled it out.

A medium-grade energy stone.

Black with thin streaks of molten gold swirled through the crystal like lightning trapped inside darkness.

My eyes lit up.

Absolutely perfect!

This stone was practically begging to become something majestic.

I placed it carefully on the carving table then stretched my neck.

Crack.

Crack.

Ahhh.

Agatha looked like she wanted to comment on the neck cracking but decided against it.

I reached for the mechanical arm.

The metal device clicked softly as I slid it into place over my limb, joints immediately aligning as the tiny gears adjusted.

The fingers flexed experimentally.

Click.

Click.

I picked up one of the dragon-scale carving blades then closed my eyes for a moment, visualizing Soren’s dragon form.

A small grin spread across my face as I positioned the blade against the stone.

"NYANG."

Translation: Let’s begin.

The first cut slid smoothly across the surface, tiny fragments falling away. Black stone turning into scales, golden streaks turning into glowing veins of power, as the outline of a curled dragon slowly began forming beneath the blade.

My mechanical arm moved flawlessly, the joints adjusting with precision as I carved, bringing the stone closer to life.

Agatha watched quietly from the side, carefully stacking the stones I had tossed earlier. Her earlier panic slowly faded as she watched the figure forming.

The room became quiet.

Only the soft tik... tik... tik... of carving tools echoed through the air.

Once I finished the final stroke, I leaned back and admired my work.

The dragon lay curled within the stone, wings tucked neatly against its body, tail wrapped around itself like a sleeping guardian. The black crystal formed the scales perfectly, while the thin veins of gold glowed like embers beneath them.

I pushed the finished stone toward Agatha.

She approached carefully, holding it like it might explode if she sneezed too hard.

"My Lady..." she murmured softly.

Even she looked impressed.

Agatha walked to one of the display shelves and placed the carving inside a glass casing, sealing it carefully like a museum curator handling a priceless artifact.

The dragon glittered beneath the chandelier lights.

That will be the one I’ll give to Soren but I wasn’t done yet. Once my paws got moving, it was hard to stop so I grabbed another stone.

Then another.

And another.

Before long, four more dragon carvings joined the first one.

One with wings stretched wide as if mid-flight. Another curled protectively around an invisible treasure. One roaring upward with its mouth open. And the last one perched like a proud guardian.

Agatha carefully placed each finished piece onto the shelves.

The shelf already looked ten times more expensive.

Satisfied, I finally turned back toward the remaining stones. It’s finally time for my real mission.

Carving my own energy stone.

I dug through the box again.

Blue.

Green.

Gray.

Purple.

But what I needed was either white or transparent with streaks of red and black.

I need something close to my original stone.

I searched deeper.

Nothing.

I searched the second box.

Still nothing.

Not even a cloudy white one.

I sat back slowly. ’Unacceptable.’

I turned my head towards Agatha. "B-box."

Agatha blinked.

"The delivery, My Lady?" she asked quietly.

I nodded.

Then opened my OmniSync and quickly wrote a message.

"Bring it here."

"Yes, My Lady," she bowed slightly before leaving the room.

The door closed softly behind her.

I stretched out on the table and closed my eyes for a moment.

Carving always took focus. Even with the mechanical arm, my brain still needed breaks between projects.

I was on the verge of going to dreamland when a soft breeze brushed against my face.

My whiskers twitched. ’Did Agatha leave a window open?’

That seemed unlikely.

She was the type to close windows, lock doors, and probably inspect the air for dust particles before leaving a room.

Still... The breeze continued.

Annoyed, I cracked one eye open lazily, only to immediately freeze.

A pair of black eyes stared straight at me. So close, calm, and very much not Agatha.

A man was crouched beside the table, his chin resting casually on one hand as he studied me like I was a particularly interesting puzzle.

"NYAANG?!"

Translation: What the fuck?!

I jumped so high, I nearly clawed the ceiling. For a brief, glorious moment, I experienced how to fly then gravity remembered I existed.

I fell straight down, only to be caught mid-air and crushed into a suffocating hug.

"My Lady!!! I miss you!" the man wailed dramatically, squeezing me like a long-lost plush toy.

My soul left my body. ’Who the hell is he?!’

But more importantly—

’HOW DID HE GET IN HERE?!’

This was a floating island. Even I still don’t know if there’s a way to go up without transforming into something that has wings.

Breaking in here should be harder than passing a final exam without studying yet this lunatic was hugging me like we were childhood friends.

I struggled. "NYANG! NYA! NYAANG!"

Translation: UNHAND ME, YOU STRANGE EMOTIONAL BANDIT!

He didn’t budge, not even a little. Instead he lifted me higher, holding me at arm’s length as he examined my face carefully. His eyes sparkled with ridiculous happiness.

Meanwhile I stared back since I can’t do anything. Strangely, looking at him now... he looked familiar but I was absolutely certain this was the first time I had met him.

I stared back. Somehow he looked familiar even if this is the first I’m meeting him.

"My Lady, do you remember me?" he asked eagerly. "My name’s Gawain! Do you know how worried I was when I came back and realized you were gone from where I left you? I’ve been searching for you every—"

My head suddenly throbbed like someone shoved a memory brick into my brain.

I saw a small room lit by warm sunlight. Books scattered everywhere. A familiar voice reading out loud with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Gawain.

He was sitting on the floor with a thick storybook in his hands, reading dramatically like he was performing on a stage instead of reading to a small animal.

"And then the brave knight declared—"

He paused mid-sentence.

"Wait... do you even understand this story?"

In the memory, a small albino leopard—this body—was lying on a pillow beside him, staring blankly.

Gawain squinted at the leopard.

"...You definitely don’t."

He kept reading anyway.