%e9%99%b0%e3%81%ae%e5%ae%9f%e5%8a%9b%e8%80%85%e3%81%ab%e3%81%aa%e3%82%8a%e3%81%9f%e3%81%8f%e3%81%a6%ef%bc%81%2c%e3%81%97%e3%82%83%e3%81%a9%e3%83%bc%e3%81%8c%e3%81%84%e3%81%a7%e3%82%93%2c%e2%80%93%2craw%2c%e3%80%90%e7%ac%ac4.1%e8%a9%b1%e3%80%91%2c%e9%99%b0% Link

Before Cid could explain the concept of "stealth" for the thousandth time, appeared as if from thin air. Her presence was regal, even in the casual gear she wore to blend into the academy outskirts.

Cid blinked. Actually, I just stayed up late practicing my 'cool mysterious voice' in the mirror, he thought. But out loud, he gave a cryptic, low-pitched hum. "The threads of fate are... tangled, Alpha." 3. The Misunderstanding Escalates Before Cid could explain the concept of "stealth"

Cid had found the perfect spot—a dusty corner behind the equipment shed. He had just settled in when a shadow fell over him. It wasn't the shadow of a grand conspiracy, but rather , the wolf-beastman and one of his Seven Shadows. Actually, I just stayed up late practicing my

"I require... nourishment," Cid whispered, standing up with deliberate, slow movements. "The kind that does not draw the eye." 4. The Conclusion tangled, Alpha

Cid walked away, his cape (which he wasn't wearing, but felt like he was) fluttering in the imaginary wind. Another day of successfully being "normal" was in the books.