Morning light slanted through the windows of Café Grimoire at an angle. A small espresso cup left on the counter caught that light and gleamed quietly. The empty cup that Lily had held out with both hands last night. Natsu still hadn't cleared it away. He didn't fully understand why. He just couldn't bring himself to take that cup to the sink. "It's called the courtesy of the guest cup," Lily had said. Her words still echoed in his mind. Offering a drink was a sign of acceptance, and receiving it became a vow—that kind of culture existed beyond the veil. Natsu had said, "Then I'll brew another one properly." In the moment he'd said it, he hadn't fully grasped how much weight those words carried. Now, he was beginning to understand a little. In the corner of the counter, Lily woke with her wings moving slightly. Her pale green hair spread softly, and her golden eyes opened slowly. Her burnt left wing moved only halfway. Its edges remained blackened, the claw marks of last night's miasma still vivid. "Good morning," Her voice was still a bit hoarse. Evidence that exhaustion hadn't fully lifted. Natsu lit the kettle and turned over his words from last night once more in his mind. He'd said he'd brew it properly. But with what? With the usual coffee beans, what could he do? Could he do anything for Lily's wings? (No, but...) Natsu's gaze turned toward the back of the shelf. Behind the counter. Next to his father's photograph, on the materials shelf. At the very back—that place, where his fingertips had grazed last night. The drawer. "Um," Lily looked up from her cup. Natsu crouched in front of the drawer and slowly opened it. At the very back, there was that thing he'd glimpsed last night. A small bottle. Small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, filled with a deep emerald powder inside. A label was affixed to it, covered in characters Natsu couldn't read at all. Not modern Japanese, not English, not any writing system he'd ever seen. Old, rounded characters. The ink had faded, but the brushwork had a certain meticulousness to it. "This was on my father's shelf," He held it out for Lily to see. The moment Lily's golden eyes focused on the bottle, her movements stopped completely. Then, slowly, she backed away. She retreated to the edge of the counter and pointed at the bottle. "This is... written in the ancient language of Moss-Wing," Her voice dropped a register. "Moss-Wing language—the language used by Moss-Wing fairies?" "Yes. But this is a very old way of writing. The notation from over a hundred years ago," Lily stared at the bottle, tilting her head slightly. There was pure confusion in that gesture. "Why would something like this be in a human's café?" Natsu scratched his head. "My father apparently got into all sorts of things..." Silence fell. Lily looked at the bottle, then at Natsu, then at the bottle again. When Natsu added, "...but I can't really explain it," Lily seemed to let out a breath, murmuring softly. "I see," That single phrase was somehow just right. Not probing deeply, but not brushing it aside either. Just accepting it with "I see." That distance felt a little easier for Natsu. "May I use it?" Lily hesitated. Her golden eyes looked at her own burnt wing, then back to the bottle. After thinking for a moment, she slowly nodded. There were no words. *** Natsu arranged his coffee tools. There was no logic to it. No basis he could explain. His hands simply moved, following Lily's wing with his eyes, imprinting the shape of the burnt edge in his mind. He dropped the usual blend beans into the grinder. Ground them to powder. Heated water. Set up the dripper. And then he opened his father's small bottle. The emerald powder released a faint fragrance. It was a plant scent, but unlike any herb Natsu knew. It smelled like the morning air of a forest condensed—damp earth and green and light all mixed together. He took just a little on his fingertip. He didn't know how much to add. But the sense of "a little" was all he had in his hand. As the water fell through the coffee, he added just a tiny amount. The color of the liquid changed. From brown to—just slightly—golden. It became a color that seemed to contain light, swaying in the cup. He placed it in front of Lily. Lily held the cup with both hands, cradling it. The gesture was the same as last night, but this time there was no sense of hesitation. She brought it to her lips. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then— The burnt edge of her wing moved, just slightly. The blackened part began to fade from the inside, slowly. Like dye dissolving in water. The shriveled, closed tips of the wing began to spread, slowly, slowly. The deep green color returned. The complex patterns with a moss-like texture appeared there once more. Lily quietly set down the cup. She spread her wing wide. Both wings, symmetrically. She lifted them slightly, as if to see them against the light. The wing that had been more than half burnt and non-functional last night was now completely open. The jade-colored iridescence gleamed faintly in the morning light. Natsu said nothing. Lily said nothing either. He simply watched that sight for a while. The warmth of Lily's hand when she'd taken the cup seemed to linger on his fingertips, and Natsu unconsciously clenched his right hand slightly. A feeling that was joy and fear all at once spread slowly through his chest. Whether this was the power of a tea master or the power of the materials his father had left behind, Natsu didn't know. Not knowing, he simply had that sight before his eyes. "...Let's go," That was the only word that came out. He took the veil key from the back of the shelf. A key made of brass-like metal, with a leaf motif carved into the handle. A key that had been in this shop since he could remember, something like a keepsake from his father. Lily folded her wings and nodded. Then she watched as Natsu began packing things into his backpack. A complete set of coffee tools, the bottle from his father's shelf, a water bottle, and a smartphone. Lily pointed at the smartphone with a serious expression. "You're taking a cursed tool again?" "The map app might be useful or something," "There are no maps for people in the Verdant Forest," It was an immediate response. Completely without hesitation. Natsu was silent for a second. Then he shoved the smartphone to the bottom of his backpack while muttering quietly. "...Just in case," He could see Lily shake her head slightly. Whether she was exasperated or amused or somewhere in between, Natsu couldn't tell, but somehow he didn't dislike her reaction. He gripped the veil key. He pulled the bookshelf behind the counter. A hidden door appeared. The veil key was drawn in, fitting into the lock as if being sucked in. *** The door opened. The first thing that came was the smell. Damp earth, moss, wood, and something more primordial—a complex, deep air that Natsu had never smelled before flowed in from beyond the door. The coffee aroma of the café was instantly swept away. Next came the light. Moss iridescence. The green moss covering the ground surface glowed faintly. Because the canopy covered above, there was no direct sunlight, but instead the ground itself shone with a pale light. In that soft green glow, the white-veil tree—the ancient tree with an estimated age of a thousand years that served as a landmark for the crossing place—towered. The diameter of its trunk was many times Natsu's height. Natsu couldn't move from the doorframe for a while. The density of the air was different. Its weight was different. The sensation touching his skin was completely unlike that of modern Japan. Something like static electricity, but not unpleasant, caressed the surface of his skin. Particles of magical power, Lily had explained last night. So this was it, Natsu thought. "...It's huge," That was all he could manage to say. He knew it was pathetic. Faced with this overwhelming sight, he could only come up with something even an elementary school student might say. Lily stood beside him and said seriously. "This is just the edge of the Verdant Forest. The interior is much larger," Natsu fell silent. "...I see," "Yes," They stepped out from the crossing place. The ground was covered in moss, and with each step it sank softly beneath them. The moment Natsu carefully stepped forward— Thump. The ground beneath his foot glowed faintly. The moss he'd stepped on brightened for an instant, then settled back down. Natsu was startled and flailed his feet. He nearly lost his balance, caught himself on a tree root, and steadied himself. "Don't step on the moss," "Huh?" "It's a matter of courtesy. The moss in the Verdant Forest has sensitivity. When stepped on, it doesn't feel pain, but something it finds unpleasant," "The moss has... courtesy...?" Natsu crouched down and looked at the section of moss he'd stepped on. It was still glowing faintly. "Is there a way to apologize?" Lily thought for a moment. "If you bow your head lightly, I think it will understand, but—" Before Lily finished speaking, Natsu was already bowing deeply to the moss. A ninety-degree bow. Lily let out a small laugh. It wasn't loud enough to be called a laugh. But it was definitely a laugh. She covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking slightly. It was the first time since the second episode that Lily's laughter had reached Natsu's ears. Natsu lifted his head and looked at Lily. "...Was that funny?" "No," She said that, but her mouth was still relaxed. Natsu thought, "It was funny," but he didn't feel like pressing the issue. Seeing Lily laugh wasn't bad. The two began walking. Lily led the way, and Natsu followed. Carefully adjusting his stride to avoid stepping on the moss. Stepping over exposed tree roots, avoiding exposed stones, placing his feet along the edges of the glowing moss. At first it was awkward, but gradually he began to understand the trick. As they walked, Natsu looked around. The Verdant Forest—the primordial forest that spread across the center of the Velde Nova continent, stretching over three hundred kilometers east to west—if this was the edge, what must the interior be like? Giant trees over fifty meters tall stood densely packed, the ground surface was covered in moss and mycelium, and because light came through the canopy, it was always dim. In that dimness, only the moss's iridescence lit the ground. The sounds that reached his ears were also different from those of modern Japan. He heard bird calls, but not from any birds he knew. The sound of water flowing in the distance. The wind rustling the canopy, a long and gentle sound. That was all. Natsu had never been to a place like this. He'd been to national parks before, but this was completely different. There, there had been signs of people. Maintained paths, information boards, the voices of other tourists. But here, there was a primordial quietness, as if human hands had never touched it. (Did Father walk here?) The thought surfaced unexpectedly. The label on the shelf bottle written in Moss-Wing language. The existence of the veil key. The decayed chair and stone platform that remained at the crossing place. If his father had come here—no, he must have come here. If so, then his father had breathed this air. He had seen this moss light. That fact settled quietly with weight in Natsu's chest. "Natsu," Lily stopped. Natsu also stopped. He followed Lily's gaze. Ahead—toward the south. The healthy green of the forest was broken. More precisely, the color had changed. From the base of the trunks, a blackened discoloration crept upward. The moss covering the ground was gray and dead, its iridescence completely gone. The range of it was substantial, even within Natsu's field of vision. The trees were alive, but their roots were beginning to rot. Something