Liz chuckled softly. “I’m grateful that you did.”

Sparks flew between the pair, and not the good kind.

“Oh?” Liz approached the basket of fish Lynga had brought as though she’d noticed something odd. “Lynga, what is this?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, this fish here.” Liz picked up a fish and pulled something out. “There’s a needle in the gill.” Indeed, she had a fine needle pinched between her fingers. Her tone grew a little more emphatic. “So, care to explain?”

Lynga’s eyes widened. “I-I have no idea what that is. The fish is freshly caught, from this morning...”

“That’s not what I mean,” Liz insisted. “Someone could’ve gotten hurt. Then what?”

“N-No, I didn’t mean to—”

“Actually, there was a needle in a fish we got before,” Liz interjected, upping the pressure. “Lily almost got hurt, and Zenos was quite cross.”

“What? Th-That’s...” Lynga took a step back as if retreating. “Y-You’ve got this all wrong! I didn’t do that! I wouldn’t!”

With a small cry, Lynga turned tail and fled. Watching her retreating form, Liz chuckled quietly and whispered, “I figured someone would drop by with a gift, so I waited here. This happened yesterday too.”

Liz placed the needle back in the sewing box on the shelf, a faint smile playing upon her lips.

“One down. A few more nuisances to go.”

***

Amid the pitch-black darkness of the second floor of the clinic, a wraith floated before a diary, her lips curled into a grin.

“Ah, so that was what the sewing tools were for. She volunteered to clean so that she could figure out where they were kept.” Carmilla snickered. “Not bad, newcomer. A clichéd method, but confusing when the opponent does not expect it.”

She placed a checkmark next to the name “Lynga” on the upper right corner of the page.

“Lynga has fallen back. This Liz is smoothly settling into the role of an imposing wife, taking full advantage of her position as the childhood friend. She may be fighting solo, but what a formidable fighter she is. Zenos’s gaggle of women is quite chaotic as far as feminine wiles are concerned, after all.” Tucking the pen behind her ear, she flipped through the diary. “Now, between the newly arrived old friend and the well-established harem, who shall be the one to win Zenos over? Hee hee hee... I knew this would be quality entertainment.”

In the darkness, Carmilla slowly crossed her arms.

Let the battle commence!

***

Year 304 of the Saint Fabilaus Calendar, July 14th, afternoon.

That afternoon, the orc leader Loewe stopped by, accompanied by several of her men. Parts of the clinic’s pillars and outer walls were crumbling, and they’d come to help with repairs.

“You’re a lifesaver, Loewe,” Zenos said.

“Yeah! You guys are all so strong. It’s a huge help,” Lily agreed.

Loewe laughed heartily. “Building repairs are no big deal for us.” Under her guidance, several orcs were carrying lumber around the premises.

“Please, have some tea,” said the freeloader Liz as she walked out with a tray of the chilled beverage. “It’s been warm lately, so be careful not to get dehydrated.” With a cheerful smile on her lips, she acted just as a devoted wife might.

The orc leader took a cup and cast a pointed glance at Liz. “I was surprised to hear you and Zenos go way back.”

“We do, yes. Zenos has always been so kind to me,” the purple-haired woman replied. “My name’s Liz, by the way.”

Loewe hummed. “He’s kind to me,” she replied with a cryptic expression.

Liz set down the tray and approached Zenos. “Let me help too,” she said, picking up a hammer and nails from the ground and rolling up her sleeves. “I just need to hammer these into the wall, right?”

“Yeah, but are you sure you can do that, Liz?” Zenos asked.

“It’s fine. They made me do all sorts of carpentry work back at the orphanage.”

“Come to think of it, they did, didn’t they?”

Liz positioned a nail against the wall and swung the hammer. Then, with a loud, “Ah!” she made a show of losing her balance, and fell backward onto Zenos.

The healer caught her and asked, “Are you all right, Liz?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. It’s been such a long time. I’ve gotten clumsy...”

Loewe grunted in annoyance.

“We’ll take care of the house, Liz. Don’t overdo it, all right?”

“R-Right, yes. I’m sorry. I’m so weak,” she said despondently with her brows furrowed, looking at Loewe. “This kind of work is best left for the strong. I wish I had muscles like Loewe’s...”

Loewe grunted even harder as she walked past Liz.

Liz whispered to the orc woman, “I think Zenos likes dainty women.”

With a loud groan, Loewe dropped the piece of timber she’d been hauling over her shoulder and fell to her knees.

“Hey! Loewe!” Zenos called out. “What happened?!”

Loewe let out a sharp breath. “Ugh. I too am weak. This timber is too much for me.”

“You were literally swinging it around just now.”

“A-A feeble maiden such as I can’t handle so much weight.”

“Like, very literally swinging it around.”

“I-I’m sorry, Zenos, I seem to be in bad shape today. Hey! You all! We’re leaving!” Loewe took her men and retreated.