Vel stirred awake, the morning light filtering through the canvas of the tent. Landre lay beside him, her face peaceful but marked with exhaustion. She clutched her book loosely against her chest, as if even in slumber she refused to part with it.
Vel slipped out quietly, careful not to disturb her. Outside, the camp was beginning to hum with life. Mari crouched near a small fire, stirring something in a pot while Von inspected his sword under the shade of a tree.
"Morning," Vel mumbled, stepping closer to Mari.
"Morning, Vel," Mari replied without looking up. "Landre still asleep?"
He nodded.
"Let her rest," she said gently. "She worked herself too hard yesterday."
Vel sat on a flat rock near the fire, breathing in the scent of porridge. Von joined them shortly after, setting his sword aside.
"Looks like everything's holding up," he said, mostly to himself.
Mari passed Vel a bowl before handing one to Von. "Eat before it gets cold."
They ate in relative silence until Mari broke it with a soft laugh. "You should've seen Landre yesterday. She nearly toppled over trying to carry all those herbs back."
Von smirked faintly. "That sounds like her." He took another bite before adding, "Speaking of yesterday—word came this morning: the search party's been called off."
Vel's grip on his spoon tightened slightly.
"They're heading back here," Von continued, tone measured but firm. "Should be arriving soon."
Vel's spoon clinked softly against the side of his bowl as he paused mid-bite. The search party called off—his hopes for Clara's return now fading into resignation.
Von's voice cut through the quiet. "I'll have some free time this afternoon. We can start your sword lessons with Celia then."
Vel blinked up at him, momentarily caught off guard. "Really?"
Von nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. "She seems eager to learn, and you could use some proper guidance."
Mari glanced up, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Sword lessons? With Celia?" Her lips twitched as though suppressing a laugh. "What brought this on?"
Von shrugged. "The girl's got spirit, and Vel's been asking about it long enough. Figured it's time I did something about it."
Mari shook her head with a bemused smile. "You're going to turn them both into warriors now? What next? Landre learning archery?"
Von chuckled faintly but didn't answer, his attention already shifting toward the horizon.
"Finish eating first," Mari said with mock sternness, pointing her spoon at him before standing to tend to the pot again.
"Yes, Mom," Vel muttered, grinning despite himself as he returned to his meal.
After breakfast, Vel watched as Mari headed toward the fields with her tools and basket. He waited until she disappeared from view before starting toward the orphanage.
As he rounded a corner, a familiar voice caught his attention. Kein stood stiffly outside his home while his mother loomed over him, hands on her hips.
"This isn't how I raised you!" Her tone wavered. "Do you think he'd be proud of this?"
Vel felt something twist in his chest at those words. Someone must've told Kein's mother about yesterday's incident. He quickened his pace, leaving the uncomfortable scene behind.
At the orphanage, the usual laughter of children was absent. Celia sat on the steps, arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting atop them.
"Celia," Vel called softly.
She looked up, recognition softening her expression. "Vel-kun."
He settled beside her. "You okay?"
Celia shrugged. "I've just been thinking about... stuff. I still want to ask the Guild if there's news about Clara."
"About that..." Vel began cautiously. "Von told us this morning—the search party's been called off."
Celia flinched but quickly masked it with a tight nod. "I figured as much. Everyone's been whispering about it all morning... Guess hearing it from you makes it real."
Vel shifted uncomfortably, then changed the subject. "Von said we could start sword lessons this afternoon."
"Really?" Celia's brow furrowed before realization dawned.
"Yeah," Vel confirmed with a small smile. "He thinks we could both use some proper training."
Her lips twitched upward faintly. Vel studied her profile and asked cautiously, "Should we ask Kein to join us?"
Celia tensed and shook her head. "His mom found out about yesterday. Some of the kids must've told her. He's probably not in the mood to talk to anyone right now."
Vel nodded, remembering the scene he'd witnessed. He changed the subject again. "What's your favorite type of sword?"
"Something light... easy to control," Celia replied after a moment's thought. "I'm not strong like Clara... I'd probably just want something simple."
Inside Vel's mind, Giri's memories stirred. In Aeonalus, weapon classifications had been intricate and precise. For Celia's slight frame and natural quickness, two types stood out: rapiers and estocs. Both elegant thrusting swords, demanding finesse over brute force.
"What are you thinking about?" Celia asked.
"Just imagining what kind of sword would suit you," Vel replied. "Something fast, like you said. Maybe one of those thin blades for quick strikes."
Celia's eyes brightened. "You think I could use something like that?"
"Sure. You don't need to be super strong if you're fast and accurate."
As Vel stood to leave, Celia caught his sleeve. "Could you... maybe stay? I don't really want to be alone right now."
Vel settled back down beside her. "Sure, I can stay."
Relief washed over her features. "Thanks, Vel-kun."
They sat together, sometimes talking about small things, other times in comfortable silence, until it was time for their training.
The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows across the clearing where Von had set up two wooden practice dummies. Vel and Celia approached, their footsteps quickening at the sight.
"Ah, just in time," Von called out. "Are you two ready?"
Celia blinked at the setup. "You made those?" she asked, pointing toward the dummies.
Von shook his head. "Not quite. I borrowed these from the guard storage." He gave one a firm pat. "Figured we'd need something sturdier than branches for your training."
"Swordsmanship starts here," Von announced, gesturing for them to come closer. He pointed toward a pile of wooden training swords at the base of a tree. "First things first—pick your weapon."
Vel's gaze immediately locked onto a wooden longsword—sturdy and well-balanced. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, testing its weight. It felt natural in his grip, bringing a slight smile to his face.
Beside him, Celia examined each practice weapon with careful consideration before settling on a thinner blade—lighter than Vel's choice, with a more delicate construction.
Von's eyebrows rose slightly. "Interesting choice. Most beginners go for something... heavier."
Celia adjusted her grip. "It just feels right," she said with a small shrug.
Von nodded, then his eyes shifted to Vel. "Like father, like son, eh? That's exactly what I would have picked at your age."
Vel felt warmth spread through his chest at Von's words, even as part of him wondered if his choice had been influenced more by Giri's tactical knowledge than any inherited instinct.
Von planted his feet shoulder-width apart, his posture both relaxed and commanding. "Your stance is your foundation. Without it, you'll lose balance the moment someone pushes you."
He shifted his footing slightly, demonstrating. One foot angled forward, the other braced behind, his knees bent just enough to lower his center of gravity.
"Feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees—just a little. Feel the ground beneath you. You're not just standing; you're ready to move."
Vel shuffled into position, his movements stiff, his legs trembling slightly. "Is this right?" he asked hesitantly.
Von stepped closer, scanning Vel's stance with a practiced eye. With a light nudge of his boot, he adjusted Vel's right foot. "Too wide. Bring it in just a bit."
Vel obeyed, glancing at Celia, who had already shifted into position effortlessly. Her feet were perfectly aligned, her knees slightly bent, and her practice blade held in front of her with an almost casual grace.
"Good," Von said, nodding toward her. "You've been paying attention to Clara's lessons."
Celia smiled faintly. "She always said if you don't get the stance right, everything else falls apart."
Von raised his wooden sword horizontally. "Now, your grip. You don't strangle the hilt. Your hold should be firm, but your wrists need to stay loose. Think of it like holding a bird—too tight, and you'll crush it. Too loose, and it'll fly away."
Inside Vel's mind, Giri's memories stirred as he watched Celia confidently adjust her grip. In Aeonalus, weapon classifications had been intricate and precise. Each category served a distinct purpose, suited to different fighting styles and body types.
Short swords offered speed but limited reach. Long swords balanced power and control. Great swords, like Clara's weapon, demanded raw strength. Katanas required fluid motion and precise timing.
For Celia's build—her slight frame and natural quickness—two types stood out in Giri's memory: rapiers and estocs. Both were elegant thrusting swords, demanding finesse over brute force. The rapier's slender blade could slip through the tiniest openings in an opponent's defense, while the estoc's reinforced point could pierce even heavy armor.
"Now, strike at me," Von said suddenly, stepping back and raising his own sword.
Vel blinked. "What?"
"Strike at me," Von repeated. "Slowly. Don't worry about speed or power—just focus on the motion."
Vel hesitated before raising his sword. He swung tentatively, the blade veering slightly off course as it met Von's. The impact jolted through his arms, almost making him drop the weapon.
"Your grip is wrong again," Von said. "Loosen your wrists, but keep your arms steady. Try again."
Gritting his teeth, Vel adjusted his hold and swung again. This time, the motion was smoother, though far from perfect.
"Better," Von said. "But you're relying too much on your arms. Use your whole body—your legs, your hips. They work together to generate power. Try again."
Vel exhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus. He planted his feet firmly, shifted his weight, and swung once more. The movement felt clunky, but the sword connected more cleanly this time.
Celia giggled. "You're doing fine! Clara-neechan always said the first hundred swings are the hardest."
"Only a hundred?" Vel muttered, shaking his head.
Von watched him silently before stepping back. "Remember, Vel," he said, his voice quieter now, "a sword isn't just a weapon. It's an extension of yourself. If you can master control—of your stance, your movements, your mind—you'll do just fine."
Vel's arms burned with every swing, the wooden sword feeling heavier with each passing moment. Sweat dripped down his temple, his breathing ragged as he struck the dummy again. His strikes were no longer wild and uneven—there was a rhythm now, rough but forming.
Celia stood nearby, her lighter blade darting forward in quick, controlled thrusts. Her movements had an elegance Vel couldn't match yet, but seeing her precision pushed him to keep going.
"Keep your elbows steady," Von instructed as Vel swung again. "You're improving—don't lose focus now."
Vel adjusted his grip and struck once more. This time the impact felt solid, almost natural. A faint flicker of satisfaction crossed his face despite the exhaustion creeping into his limbs.
"Good," Von said with a nod. "Now again."
Before they could continue, movement caught Vel's attention from the edge of the clearing. He turned just as Mora emerged from the tree line, her expression grim and urgent. She strode toward them quickly, her hand resting on the crossbow slung over her shoulder.
Von straightened immediately. "Mora? What is it?"
Mora's boots crunched against the dirt as she strode into the clearing, her gaze scanning the area. "Celia... Is she here?"
Celia straightened from where she had been leaning on her practice blade. "I'm right here," she said, stepping forward. Her tone was steady, but Vel caught the slight tremor in her hands.
Relief flashed briefly across Mora's face before being replaced by something heavier. "Good," she said briskly. "Stay close for this."
"What's going on?" Von asked firmly.
Mora exhaled sharply. "The search party has returned."
Her words hung in the air for a moment, pressing down on Vel's chest like an unseen hand.
"They didn't find Clara," she said simply. "But let me finish," she added quickly. "They didn't find any trace of her—no signs, not even her weapon or belongings."
Von frowned deeply. "What about the portal?"
Mora shook her head grimly. "Gone. The portal disappeared before they arrived."
"And...?" Von pressed.
"All of the Alphas were dead," Mora continued. "Only a few smaller Wulfangs remained alive—but there was nothing else. What they found was just... aftermath. Destruction everywhere—and silence."
Her voice dipped lower as she added almost bitterly, "What they found was just... aftermath. Destruction everywhere—and silence."
Vel's mind churned at those words—a void where Clara had been... and the portal gone? Pieces clicked into place in his head faster than he could process them fully yet...
Mora's gaze dropped to the ground as she continued, her voice quieter but firm. "We searched for days after that. Expanded the area as far as we could manage. Checked every path, every trace of the forest… but there was nothing."
Vel clenched his fists at her words, a pit forming in his stomach. He glanced at Celia, who stood unnervingly still beside him, her grip on the practice sword so tight that her knuckles turned white.
Von's brow furrowed deeply, his tone edged with frustration. "You called off the search?"
Mora nodded reluctantly, meeting his sharp gaze. "We had no choice. There was no hope left to cling to—not a single sign of her after all that time." Her voice carried a weight Vel had never heard before.
Giri's mind reeled as he tried to process the information, logic battling against emotion. This wasn't just grief or frustration—there was something wrong with how everything had played out.
The portal was an unstable type—Giri considered. If it adhered to the principles of Aeonalus, unstable portals expanded over time until they hit a breaking point. Once that point was surpassed, the creature within would break free into the world—essentially create a World Boss event—and afterward, the portal would implode.
But if this had happened, Clara would have been found—alive or otherwise. Instead, there were no signs of her at all. No belongings left behind. No traces of battle beyond what Honka and Mora described: dead Alphas and silence.
Vel's heart raced as Giri pieced together an unsettling possibility.
Did someone intervene? It didn't add up otherwise. Clara should've returned—or at least left evidence behind if she'd fallen in battle.
Unless… unless she didn't fall.
Unless she went back inside.
Giri's thoughts tangled as he explored this idea further: Clara leading Wulfangs back into their realm through the portal just before it collapsed—a desperate act to save Oakhaven from further devastation. But if that were true… who killed the Alphas outside? The timeline didn't align neatly.
There were too many holes in this theory, too many unanswered questions—but one thing felt certain: Clara's disappearance wasn't random chance or simple misfortune.
Vel stepped forward, his voice small but steady. "She must have gone back inside the portal before it closed," he said, drawing everyone's attention. "It's the only way to explain why there's no trace of her."
The words hung in the air as the others processed his suggestion. Giri's mind raced with implications. What happened if someone stayed inside when a portal closed? In the game, it hadn't been possible—players were blocked from entering portals during world boss events. But this wasn't just a game anymore.
"Mora-san," Vel asked, his voice careful but urgent. "Has anything like this happened before? Maybe... maybe the same portal could open again? Then we could go in and find Clara?"
Mora shook her head slowly. "I've never heard of an unstable portal opening twice—they're all different, every time. Only Stable-Sustained Portals do that."
Giri recognized that mechanic immediately—it was the dungeon cooldown system he'd implemented to prevent players from farming the same location repeatedly. But that didn't help them now.
Vel's shoulders slumped slightly. "Is there no other way to find her?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Giri tried to think through every possibility, but he kept hitting walls. He needed more information—more understanding of how this world truly worked, beyond what he'd designed as a game. Without that knowledge, he couldn't be certain of anything.
"Is there no other way to find her?" Vel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mora's voice was steady but laced with exhaustion. "Elnor's officials have decided... They'll declare Clara as missing in action. Notices will be sent to nearby towns—Lona, Everfront, and others."
Her words settled heavily over the group. Vel glanced at Celia, her face unreadable as she stared at Mora with wide, searching eyes.
"It's all we can do for now," Mora continued quietly. "With no leads and no trace left behind… there's nothing more."
Celia's voice cut through the silence, trembling but resolute. "I'm going back to the orphanage."
Vel, however, felt his chest tighten. The idea of Celia walking back alone gnawed at him in a way he couldn't quite explain. She looked so small in that moment, standing with her practice sword hanging limply at her side, her shoulders drawn inward like she was trying to hold herself together by sheer will alone.
"Can I walk you back?" Vel asked suddenly, his voice quiet but steady.
Celia nodded after a beat of hesitation. She turned and began walking away slowly, her steps deliberate yet heavy.
Vel walked quietly behind Celia, the crunch of their footsteps on the dirt path the only sound between them. The air felt heavier with each step, thick with unspoken grief. Celia's back was rigid, her head bowed slightly, her dark hair hiding most of her face.
Finally, he quickened his pace just enough to walk beside her. Her eyes were fixed on the ground ahead, unfocused and distant. Vel hesitated before speaking, his voice low and careful.
"Celia-chan," he began softly, "you might not believe me, but I know how you feel right now."
Her steps faltered for a brief moment, but she didn't respond. Vel continued, keeping his tone steady.
"Whether to hold out hope right now… that's your choice. However, one thing is certain—we mustn't cease taking action."
She turned her head slightly toward him at that, her gaze still guarded but more present than before.
"A wise person once told me," Vel went on, "when you fail to achieve something, try a different approach. Look at it from another angle and try harder."
He glanced at her expression—it was unreadable, but she was listening.
"Clara-neesan might be inside that portal," Vel said firmly. "But time moves differently there. If we ever find a way to open it again—who knows? Maybe only hours or even minutes will have passed for her."
Her eyes widened slightly at his words—not hope exactly but something closer to curiosity or wonder.
"I promise you," Vel said with quiet determination, "one day I'll find that portal and open it again—even if I have to brute force it."
Celia stopped walking altogether and turned fully toward him. Her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out immediately. Instead, she studied his face closely as if searching for something—perhaps sincerity or resolve.
Vel held her gaze without wavering.
Celia's lip quivered, and the tension she had been holding seemed to snap all at once. Her eyes, glassy and reddened, filled with tears that spilled over silently at first. Then came a choked sob, raw and unrestrained.
Without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Vel tightly. Her frame trembled against his as she buried her face into his shoulder. The weight of her grief poured out in shaking sobs, muffled by his tunic.
"Thank you..." Her voice broke between the words. "Thank you so much, Vel."
Vel froze for a moment, startled by the sudden embrace. But as her sobs grew louder, he relaxed and placed a hesitant hand on her back.
"I... I didn't know what to do," Celia managed between gasps for breath. "I thought I was alone… but... thank you."
Her grip tightened slightly as though clinging to the only solid thing left amidst a storm. Vel stayed still, letting her lean on him, offering what little comfort he could through his presence alone.
Celia pulled back suddenly, wiping hastily at her tear-streaked face. "S-Sorry..." she mumbled, avoiding Vel's gaze.
Vel shook his head slightly. "It's fine. You needed it."
Her embarrassment only deepened, and she turned away. "We should go," she said after a moment, her voice steadier now but still thick with emotion.
Vel tilted his head curiously. "Go where?"
"Kein's house," Celia replied, glancing at him briefly. "He… he should hear about this too."
They arrived at a modest house built from wood and stone, its white plastered walls framed by timber beams. Celia knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened to reveal a woman with a striking resemblance to Mari—the same gentle features, though her hair was a shade lighter.
"Celia-chan? You come to see Kein?" the woman asked, her voice carrying the same motherly tone Mari often used.
"Yes miss Lorene, is he home?" Celia replied softly.
"He's in the yard in back helping with laundry, you can come and see him," Lorene said, then turned her attention to Vel, her eyes studying him with gentle curiosity. "And who is this?"
"This is Vel," Celia introduced him.
Lorene's expression shifted subtly—recognition and something like regret crossing her features. "Ah... Vel," she said, her voice softening. "I... I heard about what happened with Kein. I'm so sorry about that incident."
The woman's genuine remorse made Vel feel slightly uncomfortable. He hadn't expected an apology from Kein's mother, of all people.
Vel offered a small, polite smile, his voice calm as he spoke. "It was just a misunderstanding, miss Lorene. I've already forgotten about it."
Lorene blinked, her brows lifting slightly in surprise. She studied Vel for a moment longer before nodding with an approving expression. "You're very mature for your age, Vel-kun," she said warmly. "Most children would still be holding a grudge, but not you."
Vel shrugged slightly, unsure how to respond to the praise without sounding awkward. "Thank you," he murmured.
Lorene smiled wider and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter the house. "Come in, both of you," she said. "Kein's out back with the laundry. You can go see him there."
Celia gave a small bow of gratitude before stepping through the doorway. Vel followed her inside, the air filled with the faint scent of freshly baked bread and lavender soap. Lorene's home was modest yet inviting, much like its exterior—a simple wooden table with neatly arranged chairs stood in one corner while shelves lined with jars and trinkets decorated another.
"Go ahead to the back yard," Lorene said kindly as she closed the door behind them. "I'll bring some tea out in case you want something warm later."
Vel nodded politely again before following Celia through the house toward the backyard. The soft creak of floorboards under his feet matched the gentle hum of conversation from outside as they approached Kein's voice carrying faintly through an open window nearby.
They reached the back door that opened onto a small yard where Kein stood amidst rows of laundry lines hung with clothes swaying lightly in the breeze.
Kein's head lifted at the sound of footsteps, a broad grin spreading across his face as he spotted Celia. "Celia-chan! What brings you here?" he called out, his tone bright and cheerful.
But then his gaze shifted, landing on Vel just behind her. The grin faltered. His expression flickered—something Vel couldn't quite place. Upset? Unhappy? Maybe regret? It was like a swirl of emotions collided all at once before Kein masked it with a neutral look.
"Kein," Celia greeted warmly, stepping further into the yard without hesitation. She picked up a shirt from the laundry basket and began hanging it alongside the others, her movements practiced and casual.
"I thought I'd drop by," she added lightly, her tone steady despite the weight Vel knew she carried. "And… I brought Vel-kun with me."
Kein's lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced briefly at Vel again but didn't say anything right away. Instead, he focused back on Celia, watching as she grabbed another piece of clothing to hang.
"You didn't have to help," Kein said after a beat, his voice softening slightly toward her. "I've got it covered."
"Nonsense," Celia replied easily, draping a small tunic over the line with precision. "It's faster with two people."
Vel stood near the doorway awkwardly, unsure if he should step closer or keep his distance. The tension in Kein's demeanor was palpable now, but Celia seemed determined to keep things light for the moment.
"So… what's new?" Kein asked eventually, trying for casualness as he picked up another damp shirt from the basket.
Celia hesitated for just a fraction of a second—barely noticeable unless someone was looking closely—and then smiled faintly. "Nothing urgent yet," she replied smoothly. "Let me finish these first before we talk properly."
Vel caught how her hands moved just a bit slower than before as she continued hanging clothes. She was waiting—holding off whatever news she carried until Kein gave her his full attention.
Kein nodded absently but didn't press further, focusing instead on his task while stealing occasional glances toward Vel that carried unspoken tension.
Vel exhaled quietly and stepped closer to help despite the unease hanging between them all.
The last shirt was pinned onto the line, swaying lightly in the warm breeze. The three of them stood there, their work done, silence stretching between them. The afternoon sun bathed the yard in a soft golden glow, but the weight in Celia's expression cast a shadow over the moment.
Celia clasped her hands together, fingers fidgeting slightly as she stared at the ground. Her lips parted, hesitated, then pressed shut again. Finally, she drew a deep breath and spoke, her voice steady but low.
"Kein… they've decided to call off the search."
Kein froze mid-motion, his hand hovering near the laundry basket as if caught off guard. His head snapped toward her, confusion flashing across his face.
"What? Why?" he demanded, his voice rising slightly with each word.
Celia's gaze remained fixed on the grass beneath their feet. "Mora said they'll declare Clara-neesan as missing in action," she explained carefully. "Notices will be sent to nearby towns… but there's no sign of her."
Vel watched Kein's expression shift from shock to disbelief, his fists clenching at his sides. "That's it? They're giving up? After everything Clara-nee did for us—how can they just… stop?!"
Celia flinched at his outburst but kept her composure. "It's not that simple," she said softly. "They don't have any leads or clues to follow… It's not about giving up—it's about…" She trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
Kein shook his head sharply and turned away from them both, his shoulders trembling faintly under the weight of frustration and anger. He muttered something under his breath—too quiet for Vel to catch—but it carried an edge that made Vel take a cautious step back.
Celia took a hesitant step forward instead, her voice gentler now. "Kein-kun… I know it hurts," she said quietly. "But this doesn't mean we've forgotten about her. It just means we need to wait—and hope."
Kein's shoulders sagged as the fire in his stance ebbed away. He glanced at Vel, a mix of guilt and frustration shadowing his face. His lips parted hesitantly before words finally tumbled out.
"Theo wasn't lying, you know," Kein muttered, barely above a whisper. His gaze dropped to the ground. "About what he said… about Clara-neesan."
Vel tilted his head slightly but remained silent, sensing the weight behind Kein's admission.
"I knew it was true when I overheard Mora talking with someone," Kein continued, his voice tight with regret. "But I got mad anyway... took it out on Theo because… because I didn't want it to be real."
Kein clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to meet Vel's eyes. "I acted like an idiot," he said, forcing the words out. "And I owe you an apology too—for earlier, for trying to fight you over nothing."
Vel watched him quietly for a moment before responding with calm resolve. "It's fine," he said simply, offering Kein a small but sincere smile. "You were upset—anyone would've been in your shoes."
Kein blinked, clearly caught off guard by Vel's composed response. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he let out a shaky breath.
"Thanks," Kein mumbled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
Before the conversation could continue further, Lorene's voice rang out from inside the house. "Kids! I've got cookies ready for you!"
The door creaked open moments later as Lorene appeared with a tray of neatly arranged cookies and three small cups of milk balanced expertly in her hands. She smiled warmly at them but paused to glance pointedly at her son.
"Kein-kun," she began in that unmistakable tone only mothers could manage—gentle yet firm all at once. "Did you remember to apologize to Vel-kun like I asked you this morning?"
Kein flushed slightly and turned toward her with an exasperated groan. "Yes, Mom," he replied quickly. "I already did—you don't have to keep reminding me."
Lorene raised an eyebrow knowingly but didn't press further. Instead, she set down the tray on a nearby table and gestured for them all to sit.
The three of them spent some time enjoying the warm cookies together, their earlier tensions fading into quiet camaraderie as they shared simple conversation about mundane things—like chores and how loud Honka was when visiting Elnor.
After finishing their snacks, Celia leaned forward slightly with an idea sparking in her expression. "Kein-kun," she began thoughtfully, "do you want to join Vel-kun and me for sword practice later? We were planning on training near the fields tomorrow."
Kein blinked at her suggestion, surprise flickering across his face before he glanced hesitantly toward Vel.
Vel nodded encouragingly without hesitation. "It'll be fun—and good practice," he added lightly.
After a brief pause filled with consideration—or perhaps lingering stubbornness—Kein finally gave a small nod of agreement.
"Alright," he said with faint determination creeping into his voice again. "I'll join you guys tomorrow."
The mood brightened instantly as Celia grinned approvingly while Vel felt an unfamiliar warmth settle over him—a strange but welcome sense of camaraderie building between them all despite everything that had happened recently.
Vel watched as Kein fiddled with the edge of his empty cup, looking like he was weighing something in his mind. Celia, ever cheerful despite everything, leaned forward and clapped her hands lightly.
"You know," she started with a determined glint in her eye, "if we're all going to practice tomorrow, why not make it a daily thing? It'll help us improve—and we can even set goals together!"
Kein perked up at that, nodding quickly. "That's not a bad idea. Clara-neesan always said training regularly builds discipline." His voice carried an almost wistful tone before he masked it with enthusiasm. "I've learned a few moves from her. Maybe I can show you guys some tricks while we practice."
Vel tilted his head slightly, giving Kein a small smile. "I've only started learning swordsmanship yesterday," he admitted modestly. "Dad helped me get the basics down, but I'm still pretty clueless."
Kein's lips curled into a grin that teetered on smugness but remained just shy of overbearing. "That's perfect! Then I can teach you properly," he said confidently. He shot Celia a glance as though seeking her approval, puffing his chest slightly.
Celia giggled softly, her mood clearly lifting as she joined in on the playful banter. "You're already acting like a sensei, Kein-kun!"
Kein chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with mock humility. "Well… someone has to step up!" His gaze flicked toward Vel again. "Don't worry—I'll go easy on you tomorrow since you're new."
Vel didn't mind Kein's bravado—it reminded him of countless moments working alongside Moriya back in the old world or trading barbs with Shizuka during brainstorming sessions for Aeonalus' lore and designs. There had always been this undercurrent of rivalry wrapped in camaraderie.
But Vel also remembered what unchecked competition could lead to—resentment creeping in between colleagues or friends when pride became more important than the bond itself.
He nodded lightly at Kein's offer without taking offense. "Sounds good," Vel replied evenly, his tone sincere rather than competitive. "Just don't expect me to pick everything up in one day."
Celia laughed again at that while Kein smirked and gave an exaggerated shrug. "Hey, no pressure—well… maybe just a little pressure." He winked playfully.
The three continued chatting about their plans for practice until Lorene reappeared to collect their empty cups and plates, offering them each another cookie before they parted ways for the evening.