.
.
The reality was not as easy as he had hoped. Up until now, the number of times Snowbelle shot out her beam to kill monsters could be counted on a single hand. There was no need to count how many times she turned into a dragon at all. Thus, when the night of the third day came, Joke decided to stay up until dawn at the Butterfly shop.
A tall figure sat in front of a bonfire in the middle of a forest. The dragoness, Snowbelle, who had been moody all day was staring at him unblinkingly. In her hand was a bowl of boar stew that Joke tried to cook for the first time.
“I know my cooking isn’t on par with Mr. Dani at all but there’s no need to stare at me that much.”
Joke flatly said as he scooped up the stew he had made himself. It did not taste too bad (though it was certainly not good enough for Lady Snowbelle).
“If you’re talking about the food, I never intend to dirty my mouth with it, of course.”
“Oh, yeah?”