The living room was quiet for a moment after two o'clock in the afternoon.
The dazzling autumn sun streamed through the curtains, its golden beams roaming across the dark floor textures like fish.
However.
At this Friday afternoon nap time, no one felt sleepy.
Lanci had just narrowly escaped what could have been his cremation.
If the Great Love Poet had decided to provoke Talia with a few words, Lanci might have skipped straight to the hospital.
But the Great Love Poet was in a good mood today, and she decided to save the soldier, Lanci.
"Forget it, if I were to squabble with you, it would be my fault."
The Great Love Poet, seeing that Talia was still tightly gripping Lanci, spoke with a hint of helplessness in her voice.
Then she dismissed the summons of her own accord, reverting into two Magic Cards—one orange, one purple—and vanished from Lanci and Talia's sight.
