Night fell, the moon turned bright and the stars spread across the sky.
The moist sea breeze blew across the beach and poured into the spacious tree house covered with branches, bringing a hint of freshness.
"It's time to eat!"
With a cheerful call, the great witch Circe pushed open the wooden door and brought out plates of steaming hot dishes.
Fresh and delicious seafood like fish, shrimp, clams, and crabs; perfectly roasted wyvern, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside; a thick soup made from wild vegetables and mushrooms, its aroma wafting through the air... The lavish spread on the table was enough to make anyone's mouth water.
However, Lorne, sitting stiffly at the table, looked at the feast before him, swallowed hard, and wore an expression as if facing a great enemy.
What's the occasion? Why so much food all of a sudden?
Is this... my last meal? I did step on a landmine earlier this afternoon.
Just as Lorne was beginning to suspect something, Circe, having set down the plates, glanced at her rebellious disciple.
Then, under the moonlight, she gazed out at the coastal beach and couldn't help but murmur to herself.
"Time flies... It's been sixteen years already."
"Yeah."
Lorne's tense face relaxed slightly, his eyes filling with a hint of nostalgia.
He remembered now.
This was the day Circe had picked him up from the beach.
—In a way, it was also his birthday.
How could I have forgotten? No wonder...
Lorne tapped his head, feeling a bit more at ease.
With a smile, he picked up his knife and fork, cut a thick slice of roasted wyvern steak, and enthusiastically handed it to his teacher, offering his heartfelt blessings.
"Thank you for raising me all these years."
"I never thought you'd actually survive..."
Mentioning the past, the straightforward Circe couldn't help but sigh with emotion.
"Ugh!"
Before the witch could continue speaking, the veins on Lorne's forehead began to throb uncontrollably as he shoved the large piece of roasted wyvern steak on his fork into the her mouth without speaking, effectively performing a physical gag to silence her incessant chatter.
Really, why bring that up now?
As everyone knew, the Greek divine era had a fine tradition of familial backstabbing.
Fatherly kindness and filial piety were the norm, and if you didn't kill a few relatives on your way out, you'd hardly be taken seriously.
In such a harmonious environment, expecting deep bonds and affection between parents and children was nothing short of a fantasy.
Therefore, once offspring were capable of living independently, they were usually kicked out of the house to fend for themselves.
Circe was no exception, having been left to her own devices from an early age.
So, for a witch who had lived alone since childhood, concepts like "teaching tirelessly," "patient guidance," or "tailored education" simply didn't exist at all.
Naturally, her methods of raising and teaching Lorne inherited the fine traditions of her ancestors.
Being chased and eaten by a monster that had been hungry for several days, playing scuba diving with a sea monster, and stealing the sheep of the Cyclops next door... These were the courses that Lorne had experienced since he was a child.
Add to that the occasional potion testing and poisoning...
It was a miracle he had survived this long without being killed by this reckless bird.
Fortunately, these hard days were almost over.
According to Greek divine tradition, once he reached adulthood, he could use the excuse of living independently to escape from this woman's clutches as soon as possible.
"Mmm, this roast is pretty good. Eat up, or the food will get cold."
Completely oblivious to his thoughts, Circe struggled to swallow the large chunk of wyvern steak and continued to enthusiastically urge him to eat.
Lorne smiled and nodded but waited another seven or eight minutes, making sure Circe showed no strange symptoms, before leisurely picking up his knife and fork to enjoy the evening's meal.
It couldn't be helped—this was a lesson learned through blood and tears.
As one of the most famous witches in Greek mythology, Circe was not only skilled in illusions, transformation spells, and other forms of witchcraft but was also a master of potion-making.
No matter what ingredients she used, they always ended up having some strange effect.
And this peculiar talent was especially evident in her cooking.
For example, what would be a harmless porridge in the hands of a normal person could turn people into pigs when made by her.
After being tricked a few times by his teacher's seemingly harmless dishes, Lorne had quietly developed the habit of letting her eat first, effectively using her as a poison tester.
Of course, following the traditions, letting the elder eat first was also a sign of respect for one's teacher.
While the dutiful disciple justified his morally questionable behavior in his mind, he also contemplated whether he should borrow some of his teacher's treasures before making his escape.
From what he knew, as a demigod-level witch, Circe had quite a few valuable items in her possession.
Just as Lorne was lost in his less-than-honorable thoughts, a strange smell wafted into his nose, causing him to frown.
"Huh? What's that?"
"Ahhh, no!"
Hearing his words, Circe, who had been busy tackling a crab, suddenly jumped up in a panic and rushed into the kitchen.
As the oven door opened, a strong burnt smell filled the air.
Circe held a plate, staring at the blackened lumps on it, on the verge of tears.
"It's ruined..."
"What?"
"The cake... it's burnt..."
As she spoke, her pointed ears drooped slightly, showing her frustration.
"Didn't you say last birthday that you wanted to try something like this? I tried to recreate it using the ingredients you mentioned, but it seems I failed again..."
Last time?
Lorne was dazed for a moment, but when he came back to his senses, his gaze toward Circe softened.
Although this woman was often heavy-handed and could hardly be called a qualified foster mother or teacher, but no matter what, the more than ten years they had spent together had inevitably forged a deep bond between them.
Perhaps, she was probably the person closest to him in this world.
"Forget it, I'll just throw it away."
The dejected muttering beside him interrupted Lorne's reminiscence.
Turning his head, looking at Circe holding the blackened cake, about to toss it out the window.
"Wait, a little charring makes the cake taste better."
Standing beside her, Lorne snatched the cake from her hands before she could throw it away and without speaking, broke off a small piece and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.
Circe was stunned for a moment, then snapped out of it, turning to stare at Lorne as her multicolored eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and delight.
"You ate it? You actually ate it! How does it taste?"
"Hmm, crispy on the outside, tender on the inside. Not bad."
Lorne chewed and swallowed with some difficulty, offering an honest evaluation.
To be fair, while this thing bore no resemblance to the soft, sweet cakes he remembered, the perfectly charred crust gace it a flavor reminiscent of cream-filled pastries.
"If you like it, have more!"
Circe's voice was unusually cheerful, her face beaming with joy as she eagerly broke off a large piece of the cake and handed it to her beloved disciple.
Lorne accepted her offering while casually inviting her to join.
"Teacher, it really does taste good. You should have some too."
"No need, this was made especially for you. Just watching you eat it makes me happy."
Circe waved her hands repeatedly, then pulled over a chair and sat down, propping her chin on one hand as she tilted her youthful face, gazing at her beloved disciple with an excited expression.
Her gaze seemed... unusually intense?
Instantly, Lorne's hand, which had been about to bring the cake to his mouth, froze mid-air.
He looked down at the lovingly prepared food in his hand, his voice growing hoarse.
"What did you put in this?"
"It's a syrup filling I spent a long time perfecting! Think of it as Kykeon 2.0!"
Circe waved her arm enthusiastically, her face lit up with pride as she introduced her masterpiece.
"Not only did I infuse the unique aroma of barley into the cake, but I also developed over a dozen different flavors based on the varying amounts of honey, fruit juice, and cheese..."
As the great witch rambled on about her creation, Lorne felt his head grow heavy and his limbs begin to shrink.
Snort...
With a strange sound squeezed from his throat, the victim's vision went dark. Overwhelmed by a mix of frustration and resignation, his consciousness slipped into chaos.
Amid the clatter of falling dishes, Circe jumped down from her chair and reached into the pile of clothes on the floor.
After a bit of searching, she excitedly pulled out a pink, squirming piglet.
"Ahahaha! You wouldn't sleep with me, but now you can't escape!"
As the bright moon quietly hid behind the clouds and the night deepened, the Eagle Witch of Aeaea, cradling her captured prize, skipped happily toward her bedroom.
.