Miaha stood watching with a half-smile as a hulking man with a massive snake coiled around his neck hung his head low in defeat.
It was Groh, the former leader of the Viper’s Fang—“former” because Allen had decisively knocked him off his throne moments earlier. A large bump adorned his head, and even the snake draped over his shoulders looked utterly drained, its once menacing demeanor now a mere memory.
“Why me? Why did this have to happen to me...?” Groh muttered, his voice tinged with despair.
“You can’t help it, boss… Getting on his bad side was just bad luck,” one of his subordinates offered, attempting to console him.
In the corner where Groh and his gang sulked, the mood was steeped in melancholy—a stark contrast to the lively, joyous atmosphere nearby, where Charlotte was being treated like royalty.
Then—
“Ah, um...”
A soft voice interrupted.
It was Charlotte. She had stepped away from the table and cautiously approached Groh, leaning forward slightly to peer at his face. Despite his rugged and intimidating appearance, her gaze reflected concern rather than fear.
“A-Are you okay?”
“...Huh?”
“Um, well, you seem to be injured…”
Her eyes lingered on the bump on his head. Without hesitation, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small bottle.
“This is a magic potion. Please use it. And, um, give some to the snake too.”
“Oh… Thank you!”
Groh accepted the bottle, his hands trembling.
Having just been toppled from his position of power, the unexpected kindness caught him off guard, cracking through the despair he felt. Even the hardest of hearts couldn’t help but be moved.
Noticing the bruises and injuries on the others around Groh, Charlotte began rummaging through her bag again. One by one, she handed out potions, her movements gentle and deliberate.
From their hiding spot, Erika and Miaha exchanged bewildered glances.
“That bag is a magic item,” Erika muttered. “It’s got subspace storage, so it can hold a ridiculous number of items.”
“Nya, but how many does she even have in there? It just keeps coming, nya.”
“Well, I packed them in triple digits, just in case,” Allen chimed in.
“Triple digits? Do you even know math, nya?”
“What did you think was going to happen when she went to town with that many potions?”
Their suspicious looks didn’t faze Allen. He had a reason for this. Knowing Charlotte’s nature, he had anticipated that if she encountered anything—or anyone—in need, she would try to help. To save her from running out of supplies, he had loaded her up with cheap potions and told her to use them freely. He hadn’t, however, expected them to be used quite like this.
Charlotte continued calling out to everyone, handing out potions with a warm smile. The previously rowdy group, who had been jovially welcoming her moments ago, fell silent. The shift in atmosphere was palpable, and finally, someone murmured:
“She’s a goddess…”
“A goddess…”
“Goddess! That’s it—I’m going to change my ways and live honestly from now on!”
Charlotte blinked, confused by their sudden reverence. “Ah, um, everyone, what’s wrong?”
Groh, tears streaming down his face, knelt at her feet, clutching the empty potion bottle like a sacred relic.
“Goddess, forgive us! I swear to live an honest life from now on!”
The atmosphere hit its peak, and in an unexpected twist, the seeds of a new religion were planted.
Watching from the shadows, Allen crossed his arms, nodding in quiet satisfaction.
“Hah… Charlotte. She really does have a way of winning people over.”
“I’ve heard of this before,” Miaha grumbled. “It’s match-pump, isn’t it?”
“It’s worse because he does it intentionally, nya,” Erika added, her tail flicking in exasperation.
Allen only smirked, unbothered as always.