As Mixarnt walked through the city, he couldn’t help but notice that people were staring at him. At first, he felt a surge of pride, assuming they were admiring him for his victory against General Kalavan. "Fufu, well, I guess they’re admiring how I won against General Kalavan. I can’t blame them—that was a really hard battle. Hahaha! What will I do if someone approaches me and asks for an autograph? Hahahaha!" he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear.
Just then, a girl around his age approached him. Mixarnt’s grin widened. "Oh, here comes my first fan!" he whispered excitedly.
"Uhm, excuse me," the girl said shyly.
Mixarnt puffed out his chest, trying to look as heroic as possible. "Hehe, do you want an autograph? I’ll give you one if you have a pen," he said confidently.
The girl blushed and coughed awkwardly. "No, uhm... I think it’s not appropriate to wear pajamas while walking in the city," she said before quickly running away.
Mixarnt froze, his grin vanishing as he looked down at himself. He was, in fact, wearing pajamas. In his rush to escape the tension between Moonlight and Sunshine, he had completely forgotten to change. "Ah no! I forgot to change clothes!" he exclaimed, his face turning bright red. He was already near Rosalind’s manor, so he decided to just run, hoping to reach his destination before anyone else noticed.
But it was too late. People were already pointing and laughing. "Hahahaha! Isn’t that Mixarnt? Never knew he loved roaming around in pajamas!" some men joked.
Kids started chanting, "Pajama warrior! Pajama warrior!" while women looked on in surprise, some giggling behind their hands.
Mixarnt’s face burned with embarrassment as he ran faster. "Shut up, jerks!" he shouted, though there was no real anger in his voice. The people just laughed harder, clearly enjoying the sight of the boy who had defeated a General now running through the streets in his pajamas.
Despite the embarrassment, Mixarnt couldn’t help but notice that the teasing was good-natured. The people loved him, not just for his victory in the trials but for his relatability and charm. He was always the center of attention, whether he liked it or not.
As he finally reached Rosalind’s manor, Mixarnt paused to catch his breath, his face still red. "This is so embarrassing!" he muttered, remembering how Mika had once teased him as the "Pajama Warrior" back when he had no clothes to wear except pajamas. He shook his head, trying to push the memory away.
Taking a deep breath, Mixarnt straightened up and knocked on the door, hoping Rosalind wouldn’t notice his attire. But deep down, he knew this was just another chapter in his chaotic, unpredictable life—one that people would likely talk about for a long time. And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but smile a little. After all, being the "Pajama Warrior" wasn’t so bad if it meant people were cheering for him.
"Yes, who is it? Oh! Mixarnt!" Rosalinda said, surprised to see the boy standing at her doorstep. However, her surprise quickly turned to amusement when she noticed he was still in his pajamas. Mixarnt, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. The woman who opened the door looked exactly like Rosalind, but older. She was strikingly beautiful despite her age, and Mixarnt’s mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. "W-were you cursed, Rosalind!?" he asked, his voice high-pitched with shock.
Rosalinda blinked, completely taken aback. "Eh?" she said, confused. But as soon as she realized why Mixarnt had said that, she burst into laughter, her giggles filling the air. "Oh, my! You’re quite the character, aren’t you?" she said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Just then, Rosalind appeared behind her grandmother. "Grandma, who is it? Oh! Mixarnt!" she said, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. But her expression quickly turned to confusion as she noticed Mixarnt’s attire. She looked him up and down, her brow furrowing. "Why are you in your pajamas?"
Mixarnt scratched the back of his head, still processing the situation, he ignored Rosalind's inquiry about his attire. "G-grandma!? Oh, sorry, old lady. I thought you were Rosalind who got cursed," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather.
Before anyone could respond, a hand bonked Mixarnt on the head. "Hey, that’s rude," Sasa said, her voice laced with mild annoyance. The vice captain of the Cleric Knights had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her ever-present cigarette scent lingering in the air.
Mixarnt rubbed his head, looking up at Sasa. "Ah! The beautiful sexy woman who smells like cigarettes!" he said bluntly.
Sasa’s eye twitched, but she couldn’t deny that she is beautiful, sexy, ... And smelled like cigarettes. "I’m here to check on Rosalind, just like you, we’re making sure both of you are in perfect form for the third trial," she explained, crossing her arms.
Lady Rosalinda giggled again, thoroughly entertained by the exchange. "Well, don’t just stand there. Come in, both of you," she said, stepping aside to let them enter. As Mixarnt and Sasa walked in, Rosalinda couldn’t help but notice her granddaughter’s flustered expression. It was the first time she had seen Rosalind so visibly affected by someone, and it made her smile fondly.
Inside, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Mixarnt, still embarrassed about his pajamas, tried to act casual, though his red face gave him away. Rosalind, on the other hand, was doing her best to maintain her composure, though her occasional glances at Mixarnt betrayed her feelings.
As they settled in, Lady Rosalinda couldn’t resist teasing a little. "So, Mixarnt, tell me more about yourself. My granddaughter seems quite taken with you," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Rosalind’s face turned bright red. "Grandma!" she protested, while Mixarnt just grinned, scratching the back of his head.
Sasa, meanwhile, leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold with a smirk. "This is going to be interesting," she muttered to herself, taking a casual drag from her cigarette.
And so, in the cozy warmth of Rosalind’s home, the group shared a moment of lightheartedness, a brief respite from the trials and challenges that lay ahead. For Mixarnt, it was another reminder of the bonds he had formed—and the chaos that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
