Chapter 38: The True Warrior…

“There’s nothing in this world that a single ‘meow’ can’t solve. If there is, then just meow again.”

——Records of the Cat Star Chronicles.

Sometime in the future.

The sky burns red as alien fleets descend upon the Earth. Their mechanical armies sweep across continents like an unstoppable tide, metallic wings blotting out the sun. Cities crumble beneath their war machines, and in the roar of plasma fire, human civilization teeters on the edge of extinction.

In the last fortress of humankind, the ground trembles under the march of enemy troops. Inside a crumbling temple-like command post, a boy kneels before his master, sobbing with despair. His hands tremble as he grips the hem of the creature’s soft fur cloak.

“Master… please don’t go! They’ll destroy you!”

But the master only yawns lazily, stretches its back, and arches its tail with divine grace. Its golden eyes gleam faintly in the darkness. Without a word, it turns and begins to walk toward the battlefield, where countless alien warships hang above the ruins of the city.

The wind howls. The world seems to hold its breath.

Then—

“Meow~?”

A sound so soft, so ordinary, yet it ripples across the battlefield like a command from the heavens.

On that day, the aliens once again remembered the terror of being dominated by the Catkind.

Clang!

Bang, bang!

In an instant, entire ranks of alien soldiers collapse to their knees, dropping weapons, trembling uncontrollably as a wave of invisible force sweeps through them.

“I… I think I just heard an angel’s voice!”

“My knees! I can’t stop them! They’re bending on their own!”

“Master, this lowly servant greets you humbly…”

Even in the apocalypse, cats reign supreme. No weapon, no empire, no technology can resist that fatal charm. If aliens ever truly invaded, all it would take is one purring cat rolling lazily in the sunlight—and the invaders would lay down their arms and beg to serve as loyal cat slaves.

…

“The two little Scottish Folds are fine now,” the old cat lady said cheerfully, her wrinkled face lighting up like spring sunshine. “I just fed them. They’re still sleeping. You can visit them when they wake up. You young people are so rare these days—so caring, so gentle. There are too many strays out there. People just throw them away like garbage… it’s heartbreaking.”

Vigne nodded seriously, eyes full of sympathy and righteous fire. She quickly joined in, her tone rising with indignation. “People who abandon pets should be ashamed! A life isn’t something you just discard when it’s inconvenient!”

The two spoke with passion, nodding vigorously, their voices weaving together in shared conviction. They looked like old comrades rediscovering each other after years apart.

“Can I play with them?” Vigne finally asked, her voice softening.

“Of course, dear. They’d love that.”

“That’s great!” Vigne beamed and opened her pink backpack excitedly. “I brought cat food, dried fish, a few treats, and even some catnip—”

Wait. Cat food and dried fish, fine. But catnip?

Are you planning to start a revolution, young lady?!

Catnip—an innocent-looking herb to humans, but to cats, it’s a divine narcotic. One whiff, and even the proudest feline descends into blissful chaos.

A fluffy white kitten peeked out from its box, curious. It sniffed once—twice—and then froze. Its eyes glazed over, its tiny tail twitched, and it rolled onto the ground like a soft dumpling, stretching its paws in pure delight.

“Meow~”

Vigne gasped in awe, her entire being melting into adoration. Her heart overflowed with warmth as she crouched down, hands trembling slightly as she cupped the kitten’s paw. Her expression softened into pure maternal affection.

But that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Vigne was wearing a round-neck blouse.

Standing, it was modest. But crouching down, the neckline opened ever so slightly, revealing the gentle slope of her collarbone and a glimpse of the soft valley beneath. The morning sun filtered through the trees, tracing faint golden light across her skin.

Kouya’s eyes flickered. His body stiffened.

What was he doing?

Damn it! Just useless fat! A liability in battle! A distraction to the mind of a warrior!

He’d seen far more in his long existence, and yet now, in this mundane world, one glimpse of something half-hidden sent his composure shattering.

No—it must be because his powers were sealed. His spiritual defenses were weakened, that’s all. The solution was clear.

“Stare—”

A true warrior must face hardship without flinching. He must confront pain, blood, and temptation alike! If he could face the horrors of war, then surely he could endure this trivial distraction.

He inhaled deeply, fixing his gaze like a monk in meditation.

Meanwhile, Vigne remained completely entranced by the kitten’s antics. Her eyes glowed with gentle affection, her cheeks flushed, and her lips curved into a dreamy smile. The faint scent of her shampoo lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of catnip.

Kouya’s will wavered.

Minutes passed. The catnip’s effect faded. The kitten blinked drowsily, then, perhaps embarrassed by its behavior, gently tapped Vigne’s cheek before strutting off, tail raised high in feline pride.

Vigne stayed there for a moment, still crouched, her hand hovering midair. A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. When she finally blinked back to awareness, she felt an inexplicable tension prickling at her senses.

Someone was watching her.

She looked up.

Kouya was standing over her. His expression unreadable. His eyes—decidedly not where they should be.

Her gaze followed his line of sight, and realization hit her like a bolt. Color surged up her neck to her face, turning her cheeks into twin flames.

“Y-you…!”

She leapt up, hand instinctively covering her chest, eyes wide with flustered fury. “Pervert!”

But coming from her small, trembling voice, it lacked any real power. The contrast between her earlier cooing over the cats and her current outrage made the whole scene oddly adorable.

The old lady chuckled, amused. “Now, now. Don’t be mad, dear. The young man’s a good one. He came here last night, all soaked from the rain, carrying those kittens. I even scolded him for dripping on the floor, but he just smiled and asked me to take good care of them. Such a sweet boy.”

Vigne blinked, her anger fading as quickly as it had come. The heat in her cheeks didn’t lessen, but her glare softened. “I… I see.”

When she met Kouya’s eyes again, they held a brief, wordless truce—awkward, but warm.

…

By midday, the two Scottish Folds stirred awake, stretching their tiny paws. Their fur shimmered in the sunlight as they sniffed around their box, curious and lively. The moment they saw Vigne, they purred softly and crawled into her hands, licking her fingers affectionately.

Vigne’s eyes glistened. “They’re so adorable…”

The old lady, however, sighed. “These Folds are special, but fragile. Their bones ache even when they move. They’re in pain every day.”

Vigne’s expression fell. “There’s really no cure?”

The old lady shook her head. “The vet said it’s hopeless. Only a miracle could save them now. Maybe an angel’s blessing, if such things exist.”

“An angel…?” Vigne’s eyes suddenly brightened.

One minute later.

She was already standing at Gabriel’s door.

The doorbell rang loudly, echoing through the hall.

“Gabi-chan! Wake up!”

After several long moments, the door creaked open. Gabriel appeared—hair a bird’s nest, eyes half-shut, wearing pajamas with one sleeve slipping off her shoulder. There was a red pillow mark across her cheek and dark circles under her eyes.

“Ugh… Vigne…? So sleepy… what do you want so early in the morning?” she muttered.

“It’s already noon! How is that early?!”

“For me, it is early.” Gabriel yawned so wide it almost seemed like she’d fall over. “I was planning to sleep until dinner. That way, I’d only have to eat once today. Efficient, right?”

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