Bruh! Its A Cat?! *looks At The Picture On Wiki* Are My Eyes Deceiving Me!? Me And My Blind Eyes! I Thought

Hey guys! I just uploaded a new chapter “Caldarus's Accidental Guide to Wooing a Farmer” Here’s a sneak peek:

“You’re catching on fast.” she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe you won’t burn the kitchen down after all.”

Caldarus let out a low hum, his voice laced with dry amusement. “Your faith in me is truly touching. Should I take that as encouragement?”

“Take it as a miracle.” she shot back without missing a beat.

After finishing the prep, they moved on to the stove, where Isaria began explaining how to handle the cauldron properly. “Just a simple simmer. No excessive flames, no magical shortcuts, just patience.”

Caldarus nodded, setting the fire beneath the cauldron with measured control. Everything seemed to be going well until Isaria turned away for a mere moment to grab another ingredient. Before he could respond, a sudden boom shook the room, sending a burst of smoke billowing from the other side of the kitchen. Isaria whipped around, eyes widening at the sight of the cauldron, now engulfed in flames. “Oh, for the love of—! Caldarus! What did you do?!”

“I followed the steps exactly as you instructed.” he said, though his gaze flicked between the fire and her with mild concern.

Here's the link of the fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63931303/chapters/163977091

After SVE 2.0 Update...

Isaac: Look I'm not in love with Farmer. I like them just as much as that next monster I killed.

Lance: .... ಠ◡ಠ

Isaac: I mean, I clearly have feelings for them, but feelings don't mean love.

Jadu: .... ಠಿ_ಠ

Isaac: Do I have feelings for Farmer? Sure! But that doesn't mean that I.... I-! Oh mygawd! I'm inlove with Farmer!

Alesia: .... (눈‸눈)

Isaac: *slams desk* Why didn't you tell me!

Lance: *chuckles* We thought you knew.

Isaac: Wha-! WE!? (●__●)

Camilla: We all knew. We talk about it all the time. (๑¯◡¯๑)

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑

[Scene: A quiet evening in a candle-lit study. Caldarus is seated at his desk, engrossed in an old tome while Isaria bursts into the room with an excited expression.]

Isaria: *grinning mischievously* Caldarus! I just met the most beautiful person in all of Mistria!

Caldarus: *barely glancing up, voice calm and measured* Have you now? And where pray tell, did you encounter such an individual?

Isaria: *dramatically pulls out a small ornate mirror and holds it up* Right here! Aren’t they just breathtaking?

Caldarus: *raises an eyebrow, setting his book down* You’re holding it the wrong way.

Isaria: *blinking, tilting her head* Huh?

Caldarus: *with an exasperated sigh, taking the mirror and turning it toward the farmer* Look again.

Isaria: *stiffens as she sees her own reflection, expression faltering for just a second* Oh...

Caldarus: *leaning slightly closer, his voice lowering to a rare, softer tone* Yes, you truly are beautiful.

Isaria: *scoffs lightly, setting the mirror down* Please, you’re ridiculous. That’s not what I meant.

Caldarus: *watching her closely* No? Then why the sudden interest in the floor?

Isaria: *crossing her arms, turning away just enough to hide the warmth creeping up her neck* I was just testing your perception. Clearly, you overthink things.

Caldarus: *chuckles, shaking his head as he returns to his book* If you say so.

Isaria: *grumbling under her breath, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve* You’re still ridiculous.

Caldarus: *without looking up* And yet, you keep coming back.

Here’s a skit idea for my upcoming new chapters in Caldarus's Accidental Guide to Wooing a Farmer, more romantic shenanigans between our ethereal handsome dragon, Caldarus and my mysterious farmer, Isaria! Expect plenty of witty banter, unexpected moments and of course, Isaria trying (and failing) to keep her cool around Caldarus’s unintentional flirting and effortless charm.

Mousey, I'm sure you've done the reaction of the vanilla and expanded spouses to the farmer's curse from Mr. Qi, but how about the rsv spouses? I'd be curious to see what they'd do about it ~~especially you know who *wink wink nudge nudge*~~ Also ngl I've been trying to come up with more silly ships with the vanilla and mod characters and having a blast in my mind. I've been throwing in Isaac, Jadu, Camilla, and Alesia there too for good measure because I think Isaac especially would suffer with certain characters 😂 istg it's like I'm a dog and he's my chewing toy

Hehee, I wouldn't mind hearing what other funny ships you have in mind 👀👀👀

Sorry for a long reply, it turned out WAY more than I had planned. Anyway, enjoy some headcanon, Lotus! And have a great day! 💕

RSV spouses react to the Qi fruit:

_________________________________________

Ian had been standing still for about two minutes now, keeping his eyes on the strange blue fruit that was ripening in the Farmer's seedbed. Because he could have sworn that the fruit winked at him.... with 'glasses'! And the handyman thought he'd seen it again. But at the third minute, Ian gave up and reckoned he was just wasting time. "I really don't understand anything about farming," Ian told Farmer, kissed them, and went to work.

Daia isn't the type to be surprised by strange magical fruits, flowers and berries. The Ridge Forest alone is filled with interesting plants with unusual properties. But this 'Qi' fruit... Hmph, even she hadn't seen anything like it. Being around this smirking blue fruit makes the ninja feel a tingling sensation on her skin - a sure sign that magic is involved. Oh, she can't wait to ask her dear Farmer to give her the fruit to examine, because she's so curious about it! She wondered if it would interest her Lady too...

"Wow... I knew you are a true professional at farming, hon, but to do something like this..." Honestly, Jeric was delighted at what his partner had grown and horrified at what his partner had grown. Because on the one hand - fruit with a face and sunglasses, that's awesome! And on the other hand.... why? He certainly wouldn't have imagined something like this on his own little farm in Ridgeside Village. And it's unlikely he had the knowledge to grow something like this. "....So, what does it taste like?"

Bryle was ashamed to admit it, but the first thing he did when he stepped onto the farmhouse porch was reflexively draw his service weapon and prepare to defend himself. Because the Governor's slightly sleepy bodyguard mistook the blue-faced crops in sunglasses for invaders or even dark spirits. Having already recovered from his shock and seeing the calm Farmer watering this very crop, Bryle felt that by asking what it was, he would get more questions than answers. So he was like: "Nope, not today" and went back to the farmhouse.

When some time ago Irene had only seen the sprouts with the not yet formed blue fruit, she was even intrigued to see what kind of 'unusual fruit' Farmer had planted and what the crop would taste like. Sweet, or maybe with sour notes? Only when she got the ripe fruit on the kitchen table, the Amethyne's personal chef was no longer so enthusiastic. This... fruits looks like a head and was looking at her. Irene's afraid to even touch the 'Qi' fruit, much less taste it. Her Madame would definitely not want such an.... exotic crop for dinner.

Sean decided it would be a hilarious to wreak havoc in the local social media groups with this fruit. So, with Farmer's permission, he took a picture of the ripened 'Qi fruit', posted the picture to social media without any description, and waited. An hour and a half in and Sean and Farmer were dying of laughter reading people's reactions, all sorts of conspiracy about the harvest and even memes (lol). He was also hoping someone would leave a comment about what the fruit was, because Farmer's explanation of "blue fruit from blue seeds from a blue man" wasn't a very clear answer.

"Alissa, my dear. What is this?" Alissa can't give a clear answer to her mother when she shows her the unusual fruit. It seems to Alissa that her dear spouse Farmer themself does not know the answer to this question. The girl was utterly perplexed, and neither her own knowledge of farming, nor a single book from the library about crops, helped her to find the answer. She hoped that Farmer had not used something harmful to grow this fruit...

"What's this abomination growing in your garden? Why is there foreign magic coming from that thing?" Jio is in full earnest preparing for a defensive pose with his katana, because that 'Qi' fruit looks like it's about to pounce on him and Farmer. Elf doesn't trust this crop, whatever it is in the first place. And when asked how Farmer grew this stuff in the first place, the answer struck Jio like lightning. "You... took strange seeds from a suspicious man and thought it would be a great idea to plant them?" Yeah, It's going to be a long conversation...

Not even strength and persuasion from Farmer will be enough to keep their spouse Maddie from her determination to get into the Water Research Facility & Laboratory with this strange fruit. Because the ginger girl has to find out what it is in the first place! After all, the lab assistant was also watching the process of the Qi fruit's growth, for she was curious about what Farmer was growing. And when the already ripe fruit showed its face with sunglasses, Maddie wants to show it to Aguar to see how to even classify it. Sigh, not Aguar, if he found out there was magic involved...

"Whoa... So creepy... It's like some kind of comic book villain." Phillip kept twisting and twisting the "Qi" fruit in his hands, looking at the "face" of the crop, and even tried to take off the "glasses". It didn't work, however, because it was like they were super glued on. Oh, well. And although the physical therapist is eager to find out what this miracle fruit tastes like, he still wants to take precautions and find some information about the Qi fruit, because maybe it's poisonous???

Blair nearly died laughing when she saw the face of the ripe blue fruit. "Yoba, what a bogeyman!" And how on earth did her partner Farmer manage to grow a fruit with a face like that? Oh, she wants to take a few if Farmer agrees. To taste it? No, the young fisherwoman had thought of a more fun use for this crop.... Such an ugly fruit would definitely be a good way to prank Keahi for the last prank, hee hee hee... Just a harmless joke, Blair promises!

...Anton thought at first that he hadn't fully woken up in the morning, and that he had just imagined a blue face on the kitchen table. Except that when the architect came back from the bathroom already fresh and invigorated from a cold shower, the face had not disappeared from the kitchen table. ...Ok, and then what? How should he even react? And should he even be reacting to this? Because Farmer is not perplexed by the strange fruit in any way, they treat it like a normal apple or banana. ...Alright, then. Anton silently hopes he doesn't get "sunglasses" from this fruit in his portion of salad.

Well done, Farmer, just great! Making Flor nearly faint because they decided to put some ripe Qi fruit on the dinner table before going to bed, without warning the red-haired spouse for doing so. The poor, sleepy girl wanted to drink a glass of water at midnight, but she ended up throwing it all on the floor and screaming, mistaking the fruit for human heads. Now Farmer is ashamed now... And rightly so - they shouldn't scare Flor like that!

Kiarra's face twisted at what she saw. "Honey, you didn't use any fertiliser or seeds from Joja, right? You didn't take anything from them?" Her first guess as to the origin of this strange fruit was immediately the much disliked greedy company with the blue logo. Joja always like to spoil pump vegetables and fruits with all sorts of harmful substances of unknown origin to make them bigger, and as a consequence - to sell them for more money. Even when Farmer explained to her that it wasn't Joja, the girl still remained sceptical. Because it's... not natural. Something is wrong.

Zayne thought that it would be at least tactless and rude of him to voice his first thought out loud when Farmer presented them with the 'fruit of their labours'. Especially since he loved his spouse and knew what a wonderful farmer they are, unrivalled in the entire Republic. But... What is it? The Amethyne family heir has seen some rather unusual and sometimes even strange delicacies on his own dinner table and on the tables of other noble families. But a fruit with a face... Someone, who apparently ordered Farmer to grow the fruit just so, has... a very specific flavour.

"Ew," was Ysabelle's only reaction, and to be honest - many would have agreed with her conclusion about the blue fruit with the snickering face and sunglasses. Even Farmer didn't argue with their partner's opinion about it. Really, ew (no offence, Mr. Qi). The girl simultaneously wants to ask what this fruit is and doesn't want to know anything about it, figuring it will be further questions than answers. People in the hotel have demanded stranger foods and delicacies, so the blue face fruit isn't too much of a shock to her. But still - ew.

"Hmm, why the face?" How does Farmer know, Paula? When they took the assignment from a, ahem, familiar person, they had no idea that the 'Qi fruit' would turn out to be exactly like this - a bit creepy, with a human face (but cool glasses!). The military medic wasn't too surprised by this weird crop (she'd seen much stranger food), and if the fruit wasn't poisonous and wasn't an allergy sufferer's worst nightmare, why not give it a try. "Heh, I wonder if anyone would dare to try this food on a dare"

"No, thank you, my soul. I'm good with an apple," June politely declined as Farmer, having harvested a ripe crop from the greenhouse, brought June a whole basket of different fruits and berries from all seasons to the farmhouse. His favourite apples, strawberries, oranges, pomegranate, a blue fruit with a face- Wait, what? Did he see that right? Yeah, the pianist's eyesight was not deceiving him. Later, he'll be asking Farmer questions about the blue weird fruit. In the meantime, he just wants to enjoy the apple.

When Faye thought of fresh fruit salad, she imagined cutting up a juicy and sweet mango, a ripe, with the sour notes pineapple, a delicious banana, and fill it up it with fresh orange juice. And at the sight of the Qi fruit, the waitress honestly lost her appetite. Is it... really a fruit? Why does it look so scary? It's also smiling... Oh, yuck! Farmer, that fruit winked at her! Brrr! No weird blue fruits on the dinning table, they're scary!

Shiro jumped up sharply, almost scalding hot, when he saw a field of a hundred blue smiling heads from the porch. Everywhere he turned his head, there they were: smiling, the light bouncing off their... Glasses? What the hell is that, anyway? "People want to buy fruit like that? With a scary face?" No, he's not going to try it, and the Farmer isn't advised to either. It doesn't look good, and it probably doesn't taste good anyway- No, Farmer, making this 'Qi' fruit into a smoothie isn't a good idea either... Just don't, please.

Corine never thought people could come up with something like this with crop. Well, she'd seen square watermelons, heart-shaped pears, and even star-shaped peaches on TV. But a melon-sized blue fruit that also had a human face..... Even she didn't expect that. Really, she doesn't understand why the Farmer glued it on. "Oh, I didn't glue the glasses on, dear, they grew with the fruit!" Sorry, the glasses did what?

"No offence, dear, but I'll probably pass." Oh, Farmer didn't grow this fruit for food, but for someone personally? Whew, what a relief... Um, Kenneth didn't mean to be rude or offend Farmer in any way, but the mere thought of that Qi fruit that very much resembled a head being cut with a knife made him cringe and disgusted. The inventor doesn't understand who needs fruit grown in this way, but he's not good at farming, so Kenneth will leave the matter to his spouse.

✿✿𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 ✿✿

Sam and Yvonne's relationship progresses through various stages as the seasons change. In the fresh and vibrant spring, they share lighthearted moments and budding affection. As summer arrives, they spend more time together and grow closer, their bond deepening under the summer sun. As the leaves turn crisp and golden in the fall, they share intimate moments, their connection strengthening with the changing seasons. In the quiet, snowy winter, they find comfort and warmth in each other's company, their relationship reaching peaks of closeness and understanding.

Mod: "Maggs Immersive Sam Romance Dialogue and Events (x)Spicy or Sweet 1.6" by @maggplays

I don't know if I'm being late to notice this in the new update. When I had my farmer attend the Luau Festival on the beach, I couldn't help but notice that everything looked different. The NPC's have changed their spots, and the Luau Potluck has switched places with the dance floor. Though it took me some time to notice the change, I have to admit that I really like the new arrangement! 😮✨🏖️🍲

𝙼𝚢 𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

Okay. Okay. Breathe.

So there I was, staring death in the face, when suddenly BOOM! Caldarus materializes out of thin air, all radiant and powerful like some kind of divine deity.

"Oh, thank goodness you are safe."

Sir. SIR. You just broke the fundamental laws of existence, took on a PHYSICAL FORM, and all you have to say is "thank goodness" like you didn’t just pull the most dramatic power move in history?!

And the way he looked at me. So relieved, like he had been genuinely worried. Meanwhile, I’m over here still trying to process the fact that an ancient dragon just willed himself into reality for me. For me.

Other romance candidates? Yeah, pack it up. This man started at SIX HEARTS. SIX. I didn’t even have to drown him in apple honey curry or fried rice first.

He’s so majestic. (✿ ♡‿♡)

A/N: After reading @studentinpursuitofclouds headcanon about the bachelors/ettes' reactions to being kidnapped for revenge or ransom only for their furious Farmer spouse to storm in and rescue them. I felt inspired. I couldn’t help but write a version for Lance, blending it with my farmer OCs' backstories. Hope you enjoy the fic!

The moon loomed high over the farmhouse, casting its pale, silver glow across the quiet fields. The night was still, almost unnervingly so, with only the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. The greenhouse stood as a lone beacon in the darkness, its glass panels faintly aglow, sheltering a world of warmth and life separate from the cool hush outside. Inside, Rosemary moved among rows of flourishing crops, the earthy scent of soil and faint hum of lingering magic surrounding her. Yet, despite the comforting atmosphere, a knot of unease twisted tightly in her chest.

Lance should be home by now.

He had left at dawn, that familiar confident grin on his face, promising—promising—to return before sunset. She had believed him. Lance always kept his word. But now, as the hours stretched long past nightfall, the promise felt like a fading echo.

A message had come earlier, brief and reassuring. But Rosemary’s instincts screamed otherwise. She brushed her gloved fingers over the rough skin of a void root. The dark, twisted form seemed to absorb the soft light, pulsing faintly with ancient magic. She tried to focus on the task at hand—on the routine—but her thoughts kept circling back to one question.

Why isn’t he back?

Her pruning slowed. Water dripped from a nearby watering can. The silence grew thick.

Then it happened.

A chill—sharp and sudden—sliced down her spine.

Her breath hitched.

Her gloved hand froze mid-motion.

It wasn’t a sound. Not a shadow shifting in the corner of her vision. No. This was deeper. Internal. Like something inside her had snapped.

No...

The comforting aura of Lance’s magic, ever-present beside her own like a steady heartbeat—had vanished.

Gone.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“No.”

The word escaped her lips in a broken whisper. The trowel slipped from her hand, clattering against the stone path. A ragged cry tore from her throat as she stumbled back. Her gaze snapped toward the hills beyond the farmhouse. She reached inward—desperately—trying to find the familiar pulse of his magic.

There. Faint. So faint.

But still there.

A gasp tore from her.

Lance...

Alive. Barely conscious. But alive. Reaching for her.

Her hands fumbled for her phone. The screen blurred before her eyes as her fingers darted across it, moving faster than her mind could process. Only one number mattered.

The line rang once. Twice.

“Rosie?”, Her sister’s voice answered calm as ever, but edged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Cerise!!! I can’t feel him.” Rosemary’s voice cracked. “His magic! it’s gone—I don’t know what’s happening, what does it mean?”

Silence.

A silence that stretched for only a moment but felt like a lifetime.

When Cerise finally spoke, her tone had shifted, cool, sharp, edged with something Rosemary rarely heard from her sister: fear.

“No… they wouldn’t.” The words came as a whisper. Then, sharper, cold with realization: “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”

Rosemary’s grip tightened around the phone.

“They must've took him.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“They took my husband.”

This time, her voice was low, dangerous, a quiet fury simmering beneath each syllable.

Cerise inhaled sharply on the other end of the line. “Most likely. If they couldn’t get my Jio, their next move would be—”

“I’m going.”

“Rose—”

“I’m not waiting around, sister.” Rosemary’s jaw tightened. Her ocean jade eyes—usually bright and warm—narrowed into cold flames of determination. “I’m getting my husband back. Whatever it takes.”

”Rosemary, wait—”

But the call had already ended.

Without hesitation, Rosemary snatched up her sword from the greenhouse floor. The blade thrummed with her magic, responding to her rage. She pulled on her dark cloak, fastened the clasp at her neck, and slung a pouch of potions over her shoulder.

She stepped out into the night.

She didn’t need a plan.

Only a direction.

Lance’s faint magic—like a whisper at the edge of her mind—would guide her.

“Hold on, love” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m coming.”

And nothing would stand in her way.

The room reeked of damp stone and stale air, a subterranean prison swallowed by oppressive darkness. The narrow space was barely lit by a flickering lantern that hung from a rusted chain in the corner, its dim glow casting trembling shadows across the concrete walls slick with condensation. The ceiling sagged low, pressing down like a weight upon the soul. The air itself was suffocating, thick with the scent of mold and the faint, undeniable metallic tang of old blood. A chill seeped from the stone floor, gnawing at the skin, while the silence—broken only by the rhythmic drip of water echoing from some distant corridor—felt almost unnatural. But worse than the cold or the damp was the lingering, suffocating aura of magic that clung to every surface, woven into the very air. It was a cruel enchantment, designed to sap strength, to suppress power. And it was working.

Lance shifted in the chair he had been bound to, the rough rope digging into his wrists. His head hung low, dark pink hair falling messily into his face. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, sharp and insistent, growing worse with each breath drawn in the magic-saturated air. His eyes flickered open with slow, deliberate effort. His arms ached from the tight restraints that hummed faintly with the same suppressive power in the room. Even the smallest attempt to draw upon his magic was met with resistance, a suffocating weight that dulled the spark he relied on.

A breath slipped from his lips—slow, frustrated, bitter.

The Second-in-Command of the First Slash Clan, renowned combat mage, captured.

Not by a rival clan worthy of his strength. Not in battle against some formidable foe.

No, by a group of low-ranking mafia thugs who had no comprehension of the power they were trifling with.

The humiliation stung, but it wasn’t the real issue gnawing at him. His pride could endure this. What he could not endure was the knowledge he had failed. Failed to see the ambush coming. Failed to protect what mattered most. With all his training, all his magical prowess, he should have burned through these restraints with a flick of his wrist. But this room—the entire place—reeked of the kind of magic meant to weaken him, suppress him, render him vulnerable.

Still, it wasn’t his own fate that consumed his thoughts.

It was hers.

The realization cut deeper than any blade.

They weren’t after him.

They were after Rosemary.

He had heard them, muffled voices beyond the door, carelessly assuming he was too weak, too broken to care. But he had listened. Every word. Every plan. The truth had struck him harder than any blow. They believed that taking him would draw her out. They thought Rosemary would come running, desperate and vulnerable—a perfect trap.

But they didn’t know her.

They didn’t know Rosemary.

She wasn’t some fragile woman to be lured like a helpless bird. She had Cerise’s blood in her veins—the blood of the Crimson Wraith.

And worse still, they didn’t simply want to use her as bait. No. Their plan was far more twisted. They wanted her alive. They wanted to mold her into a weapon—a new puppet assassin forged from the only sister of the Crimson Wraith.

The thought made Lance’s jaw tighten, his fingers twitching against the ropes. His entire being recoiled at the idea of anyone laying a hand on her. His Rosemary. His wife. The woman who had fought for her freedom, who had lived in the shadow of her sister’s bloody past but had never allowed it to define her. They thought they could twist her into something she wasn’t.

The audacity.

The rage brewed quietly beneath his composed exterior, his magic stirring despite the oppressive weight. He would burn this place to ash for even daring to think of touching her.

The door creaked open.

Rusty hinges groaned like a dying animal, breaking the stillness.

Lance lifted his head, eyes narrowing as two figures stepped into the dim light. One was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar slashing across his cheek—a permanent sneer carved into his skin. The other remained near the door, arms crossed, eyes dull with boredom.

The scarred man grinned, a slow, mocking curve of his lips.

“You know.” he drawled, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t married that red-haired bitch. We didn’t want you. You were never the target.”

He crouched, bringing his face close enough that Lance could smell the foul mix of tobacco and cheap liquor on his breath.

“We wanted her sister. Cerise. She was... valuable to us. But she escaped. Left everything behind, dragging her little sister along like a coward.”

His grin widened, malicious satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“But now? We have something better. You see, we realized something. What better way to replace the Crimson Wraith than with her own blood? We’ll take your precious wife, and turn her into the perfect weapon. Our new puppet.”

The words echoed in the damp room.

Lance didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. His face remained calm, far too calm.

But inside?

How dare you.

The air shifted.

Even bound and suppressed, his magic stirred, a quiet storm gathering, waiting. The ropes bit into his wrists, but they were nothing more than an inconvenience. He would burn this entire place to the ground before he let them touch her.

And then—

Footsteps.

At first faint, almost mistaken for an echo. But then louder. Steady. Unyielding.

The two mafia members stiffened. Their smug confidence faltered.

The pressure in the air built, thick and suffocating. The flickering lantern dimmed, shadows crawling further along the walls. The footsteps didn’t slow.

They grew louder. Closer.

And then—

The door exploded inward.

Wood shattered into splinters. The force of the blast sent fragments clattering across the stone floor. The oppressive magic that had choked the room recoiled instantly. For a moment, the air itself seemed to fear the figure standing in the doorway.

Rosemary stood there—fury incarnate.

Her rose-red hair blazed in the dim light, cascading behind her like a river of flame. Ocean jade eyes burned with unrelenting rage and fear, swirling with power she no longer cared to conceal. The aura surrounding her crackled with raw magic—a tempest on the brink of being unleashed.

“Where...”, she whispered, her voice low, trembling with restrained wrath, “Is my husband?”

The scarred man stumbled back. “Oh shit-!” he muttered in disbelief, glancing at his companion.

But the moment he moved—

Rosemary vanished.

A flash of purple swept through the air. Her blade glinted once, a crescent of death cutting through the dim light. With a scream, the scarred man flew backward, crashing into the far wall with a sickening crunch. The second man barely had time to react before Rosemary descended on him with relentless precision. Her strikes were merciless—graceful yet devastating. Every movement spoke of years of training, of lessons carved into muscle and bone.

They had expected a weak sister.

They received a force of nature.

The second man crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Silence fell.

Lance remained still, his gaze fixed on the woman who had torn apart his captors without hesitation. His heart thundered in his chest—not out of fear, but awe. She had come for him. She had shattered their illusions. She was magnificent.

Rosemary turned.

Her gaze softened the moment it met his. The fury faded, replaced by something far deeper—fear, worry, desperation.

“Lance.”

Her voice broke.

In two strides, she was beside him, dropping to her knees. Her hands reached for his face first, trembling as they brushed against his skin, as if afraid he would vanish.

“Are you—did they—?” Her voice cracked, unable to form the question.

“I’m fine.” His voice was soft but firm, though his smile faded when he saw the tears shining in her eyes.

“No, you’re not.” She gritted her teeth, glancing at the glowing restraints. Without hesitation, her fingers tightened around the ropes. Magic pulsed through her veins, rushing to her hands.

The ropes hissed.

With a surge of power and a cry laced with all the fear and rage she had suppressed, Rosemary ripped them apart. The restraints shattered into ash beneath her touch.

Lance didn’t move. He simply watched her—watched as she clung to him, as her shoulders shook.

“I thought—” she choked out, “I thought I was too late.”

Gently, Lance wrapped his arms around her.

“You weren’t.”

She buried her face in his chest. “I would have destroyed this whole place if they’d laid a hand on you.”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You were perfect.”

“No.” She pulled back slightly, her ocean jade eyes locking onto his, fierce even through the tears. “Not perfect. Just in time.”

And when Lance leaned forward to press his lips to hers, tender lingering. It wasn’t simply relief that filled the space between them.

It was a promise.

A promise that no matter who came for them next, no matter what shadows lurked in the past, they would face them—together.

Why is my fyp filled with Fields of Mistria content?! I keep coming across this red-haired hunk of a blacksmith!

~IsaacXFarmer on a date, after SVE 2.0~

Farmer: *gives a bouquet to Isaac* Roses are red, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet and so are you.

Isaac: Roses are red, that much is true. But violets are purple, not fucking blue.

Farmer: Just take the damn flowers.