"Go to the forest. Kill some magic beasts. Humans aren't edible. Beasts are delicious. We can eat them or sell them."

"Gods are not for hunting," Caerus said, staring at her sapphire eyes.

A branch snapped in the deep brush.

"Wind?" Yulia whispered, her head turning toward the sound.

The noise grew. Rhythmic, heavy breathing. A woman's muffled, rhythmic cry.

Yulia took a step toward the bushes, her curiosity overriding her survival instinct.

A low, sharp moan drifted through the trees. Yulia's face exploded into a frantic, burning red, the heat spreading to her ears.

A cold hand clamped over her eyes.

"We're leaving."

Caerus's voice was as cold as a tomb, but there was a new, raspy edge to it.

"Little girl... this is far too early for you."

Yulia's knowledge probably dwarfed that of the Dragon Lord. High school and the internet had seen to that, but watching it live with Caerus was different. It felt like a sex scene popping up on TV while sitting with her parents.

"Let's go, let's go," Yulia muttered, her face a frantic, burning red. She yanked at his sleeve, pulling him toward the trees. "Nothing to see. The guy... well, he's clearly not up to the task."

Caerus stopped dead. Silence stretched between them in the dark grove.

"You seem to have... experience," Caerus rasped, his voice dropping into a low, cold vibration.

Yulia's hands flew up, palms out. "No! I mean, I've heard things. Stories. That's all."

She narrowed her sapphire eyes, pivoting to the attack. "And you! You said gender means nothing to you. Why stop me now? You're a total hypocrite."

Caerus's expression remained as flat as a grave marker. "I am the Creator. I made the distinction; it means nothing to me. You, however, are a child. Consider this a divine grace."

Bullshit.

That night, the bed was a jagged ridge of down and linen. Yulia stacked the pillows into a waist-high wall between them.

"You said it yourself," she declared, her chin tilting up. "I'm not the age to be sharing a bed with a man. This is much better."

Caerus opened his mouth, but Yulia cut him off with a pointed finger. "If you have the parts, you're a man. You aren't a third gender. Unless you shift into a big-chested lady right now, you're just a guy."

Caerus's jaw tightened. He snatched a pillow and shoved it against her mouth. "You talk too much."

Yulia clutched the pillow to her chest, retreating to the very edge of the mattress.

Caerus watched her, a thin smirk touching his lips. He could shatter the temple to find her if he wished. This wall was a child's game.

He didn't scare her further. If she was close, the noise stayed away. If there was a gap, he didn't have to worry about her chewing on his hair in her sleep.

Caerus woke at midnight. The moon hung cold and silver over the spires.

Yulia was a tangle of limbs at the far end of the bed. A goofy, satisfied smile was plastered on her sleeping face. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

He reached out and swept the pillow wall to the floor. He pulled the soft, warm weight of the girl into his arms, anchoring her against his chest.

The habit was a glitch in his divine system. He had come from the Chaos, existing for ages before time or space had names. He had carved the Light and the Dark from the void to kill the boredom.

The God of Radiance and the Dark God were his masterpieces. The other deities were mere sparks, weak and predictable.

The divine realm was a stagnant pool. Nothing changed. Nothing surprised him.

Then this girl arrived. A stone thrown into his stillness, wrapping her limbs around him like an octopus.

Is she dangerous? Should I end her now?

Caerus let out a long, heavy yawn. He tried to pull a strand of his hair from her mouth, but her grip was absolute. Later.

Sunlight hit the stone floor. Caerus was gone.

Yulia sat at the small table, her pen scratching against the parchment. She was drafting the harvest—stir-fry, braised pork, the works. She was a player in a high-stakes simulation, and she had an infinite-gold cheat code.

"Miss Lillia! A new recipe?" Madame Doris beamed, her cheeks flushing.

Yulia handed over the sheets. Doris scanned them, her brow knotting into a map of confusion. "A pinch? A dash? What does this even mean?"

Yulia tapped her temple, her sapphire eyes gleaming. "That's the soul of the craft. The 'pinch'."

Doris didn't buy it. She hauled Yulia into the kitchen to demonstrate.

The oil hit the pan with a frantic, rhythmic hiss. The scent of fried pork and soy sauce blazed through the hallway like a physical force.

Doris used her wind magic to act as a human exhaust fan. It wasn't enough. Mages pressed their faces to the kitchen glass, their pupils blown wide as they tracked the steam.

Yulia was about to take a bite when a shadow fell over the table. Caerus sat down, picking up a fork as if he'd been invited.

"You again?" Yulia asked. "Are you a dog? Did you follow the scent?"

Caerus ignored her. He took a bite of the fresh stir-fry. A muscle jumped in his jaw—a sign of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"Too sweet," he muttered, his fork already moving for a second helping.

"If it's too sweet, don't eat it," Yulia snapped. She lunged for the last piece of braised pork.

Caerus pinned her hand to the table with his own. "I'll manage."

"You said it was bad! Why are you fighting me for it?"

"Stolen food tastes better," he replied, his eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory amusement.

The students whispered behind the glass. The mysterious professor had a bottomless vault and the power of a god.

Daisy heard the rumors in the second-year halls. She rarely saw him, except for the Tuesday practicals.

The sun shone on the wisteria in the central courtyard. Caerus stood before two classes of students, his black robes billowing in the breeze.