My sincere concern made Morpha let out a short, disbelieving breath. They snorted as if they were hearing complete nonsense.
"You are underestimating my abilities."
"I'm not underestimating you. But disguise magic isn’t exactly specialized for combat."
"Correct. Because I have no need to fight."
Morpha rose from their seat and tilted their head slightly.
In the place where a tall man in his twenties had been standing, a seven-year-old girl now appeared. She wore a cute suspender skirt, her red hair braided into twin tails.
Morpha, now in the form of a little girl, put a finger to her lips and looked up at me with watery eyes.
"Um, excuse me, have you seen my daddy?"
"...All right."
"Uuu, I was sure my daddy was here somewhere."
"That’s enough, stop it!!"
When I snapped irritably, Morpha tilted their head again and returned to the form of a man in his twenties.
I rubbed my eyes hard, like I had seen something I should not have. If I had seen that without knowing anything, she would have looked cute and lovable. But knowing what was inside made my skin crawl with cognitive dissonance.
Morpha glanced out the darkened window, then extended a hand toward Varen.
"All right, then. Shall we begin preparing? Varen, you should change your appearance as—"
"Wait."
Before Morpha’s hand could touch him, Varen sprang to his feet. His nearly two-meter-tall frame looked like it might brush the ceiling of the old inn.
He raised both palms and spoke in a tense voice.
"I don’t want to be a little kid. It’s hard to move."
"Hmm...."
"That human would be good."
The one Varen pointed at with his index finger was Kallen, smiling brightly.
Kallen, having been singled out, tilted her head and laughed.
"Oh my, did you like my looks? The little one from yesterday was cute too, though not quite as much as me."
Misunderstanding entirely, Kallen placed both hands under her chin and blinked her eyes.
At that sight, the eyes of the four adult men in the room narrowed.
Unlike me, who was still unsure what I was looking at, Morpha asked bluntly.
"What exactly are you doing right now?"
"Pardon? Isn’t this cute?"
Kallen blinked even faster while holding the pose. I hesitated for a moment, but yes—she was definitely trying to act cute.
Morpha shook their head with a look of genuine shock.
"Cuteness does not come from behavior. It comes from appearance."
"Mm, so you’re saying cuteness comes from appearance...."
"No. That is not correct."
"...So I’m not cute...?"
"Not at all. You are not cute in the slightest. Acting like that does not make you cute."
"Excuse me. Say that again."
Kallen always addressed everyone politely. Seeing her call someone “excuse me” so bluntly was a first.
Before the unnecessary argument dragged on, I waved my hand to draw their attention.
"Honestly, yesterday’s form was inconvenient. I had to carry him around all day. And thinking about it, a human with a travel pass would be easier."
My gaze shifted toward Margon. He looked like a burly bandit, but in a commercial city full of unaffiliated hunters, he actually blended in better than most.
I gestured toward the vacant-looking Margon with my chin.
"What about Margon instead?"
At my words, Varen’s face froze cold. He waved his hands frantically and fired off his words at me.
"I wasn’t saying we should choose from among them—"
"If that is the consensus between you two, then understood."
While Varen was facing me, Morpha’s hand landed squarely on the crown of his head.
Varen sensed their power spreading and hurriedly turned around—but standing there was a large, clumsy-looking brown-haired idiot.
Varen stared blankly at his own hands.
Margon, who had been # Nоvеlight # sitting, shot to his feet.
"Hey! Do I really look that stupid?!"
"I merely reproduced you perfectly."
Morpha ignored Margon’s heated protest and shrugged.
Then they turned toward Varen, who stood there with his shoulders slumped.
"This is for your safety. If that human remains at the inn, we can use his travel pass."
Their expression was as indifferent as ever, but their pitch-black eyes glinted with mischief. If I looked closely, it seemed they were quietly enjoying teasing Varen.
I stood and slowly examined Varen—now wearing Margon’s face.
My gaze stopped, as if nailed in place, on the thick right arm.
Reading my expression, Morpha added an explanation without being asked.
"My ability only changes appearance. I cannot create what does not exist, nor erase what does."
I pressed my lips into a thin line and glanced at Margon. He was staring bitterly at the sight of his own body, complete with both arms.
As the mood sank instantly, Kallen’s eyes rolled back and forth uncertainly.
Morpha scratched the back of their neck in annoyance and spoke.
"I do know someone who can create a prosthetic arm using mana. I don’t know whether they’re still alive, but among humans, they were quite skilled."
At that, Margon, Kallen, and I all widened our eyes at once.
Margon asked Morpha with a flushed face.
"A mana-made prosthetic is said to be no different from a real limb. Is that true?"
"I have never used one myself, so I cannot say. But that is what people claim."
For the first time since meeting Margon, I saw hope bloom across his face.
But it faded just as quickly, his expression turning gloomy again.
"But... it must be incredibly expensive, right? Even a normal prosthetic costs a fortune. One made with mana would be...."
"Why worry about that? I’ll pay for it even if I have to spend everything I own, so don’t worry."
I grabbed Margon’s left arm and spoke firmly.
He looked down at where I was holding him and let out a hollow laugh.
"Do you know how much all of your wealth amounts to, Ceryl?"
"...You’re a noble, right? Even ruined nobles last three generations."
Only then did it occur to me that I was boasting with money that wasn’t even mine, and embarrassment crept in.
When I awkwardly released his arm, he met my eyes and smiled sheepishly.
It was an innocent grin that didn’t suit his thick beard at all.
"Whether it’s money or your body, Ceryl, please use it sparingly."
Despite having broken that promise to safeguard his lord’s body countless times already, I patted his left shoulder, silently vowing to keep it this time.
"All right. I’ll just observe from afar, so don’t worry too much."
After the brief exchange, I turned toward the dejected Varen.
Standing between two identical figures made me feel like I was among doppelgangers.
The appearance was familiar, and the essence even more so. Somehow, Varen wearing Margon’s face felt more awkward than when he had looked like a complete stranger of a child.
I scratched the back of my neck for no reason and spoke to him.
"Well... you look reliable, at least. Let’s go before it gets too late."
"...Okay."
At the signal to depart, Morpha placed their hand on the crown of my head this time.
A moment later, my hair darkened into the same faded brown color as Margon’s.
When all preparations were complete and we stood at the door of the inn, I smiled at the two who were staying behind.
"Take care of the place."
"Tch... my face would’ve been better...."
Kallen muttered, apparently taking this whole situation as losing an appearance contest.
I gave a small wave and stepped out of the inn.
***
The place Morpha had prepared was one block away from the black market.
The black market itself was a low, two-story building. Our vantage point was on the fifth floor.
It was a bit far, but from this height we could overlook everything at a glance.
More importantly, several of the windows on the facing wall were shattered, giving us a clear line of sight.
I sat down on the cushion Morpha had laid out and picked up one of the juice bottles they had prepared.
"They really are competent in every way. To think someone like this joined us... incredible."
It felt like a VIP box at a sporting event. I sat comfortably with my legs crossed.
Margon—no, Varen—shifted his cushion and sat pressed close beside me.
In one smooth, natural motion, he extended an arm and pulled me in by the waist.
For an instant, a nameless emotion surged up inside me. Goosebumps raced from my scalp to the soles of my feet, and I barely managed to choke back a scream.
"W-What are you doing?"
Instead of shouting, I scooted backward on my hips and quickly escaped his arm.
He frowned in clear dissatisfaction.
"Why? It’s not like we kissed...."
"Don’t. If you do that to me while wearing that face, I’ll seriously kill you."
"......"
"Even one fingertip. Got it?"
Lightly brushing hands with Margon was fine.
The problem was the atmosphere Varen gave off.
The affection dripping from that blank face, and those rough palms touching places that were far too sensitive—I couldn’t endure it.
Varen looked at me without hiding his disappointment.
But the sight of that expression made my breath catch painfully in my throat.
If he were in his original form, I would have already pulled him into an embrace out of pity.
Now, I had to bite back the urge to curse at him and tell him to turn his face away.
I had chosen Margon’s appearance in case something happened to Kallen.
If I had known there would be side effects like this, I would have preferred a complete stranger instead.
Leaving the sulking Varen behind, I shook my head and turned my gaze far into the distance.
