"..."
Lately, Isaac often found himself blankly staring up at the sky.
Even though looking at it didn't tell him how much time had passed, he still strangely couldn't stop his eyes from lingering there.
"Disciple, what are you doing?"
"Ah, my apologies."
Isaac came back to his senses at Mu-myeong's call and looked ahead.
It was the day to test the skills of the trainees raised by the Grandmaster and Mu-myeong.
Watching their duels, which were far better than expected, Isaac nodded in satisfaction.
"I'll give you a separate budget—why don't you take the squad out for a celebratory meal? As for today's duty officers, either include them in the payroll or arrange something separately for them."
"Heh, understood."
Isaac gave a sheepish smile as Mu-myeong jokingly addressed him in formal speech.
There was a clear difference in status between himself, the lord, and Mu-myeong, the head trainer.
But to Isaac, Mu-myeong was no different from another master, so even though he had told her there was no need for such formality, Mu-myeong would still joke like this from time to time.
Life as a lord was smooth.
Compared to the goals he'd held during the battles against the Transcendents, they were modest now.
But he was thankful that things were far more peaceful than back then.
There were things one could see only when swinging a sword desperately, but there were also things visible only when holding it calmly.
Still, he couldn't help the faint sense of lethargy that lay like a thin film over everything.
'I don't miss the danger, but… I do miss the intensity.'
The Grandmaster had once said that the time during which a person could burn with passion and pour their all into swordsmanship didn't last long.
Mu-myeong had agreed, and both had remarked that they would never again wield their swords like they did back in Crimson Valley.
Isaac had agreed as well.
Even love, the noblest of feelings, eventually burns out and disappears.
Unless a threat on the level of the Transcendents returned, there would likely never be a day when Isaac Logan wielded his sword with such fervor again.
Thinking so, he felt both relief and a bit of regret.
"..."
As he quietly watched Mu-myeong and the guards head off for their gathering, Isaac turned away.
Walking down the streets of Volten bathed in the sunset, he heard the greetings of people preparing their stalls.
"Oh? Lord Isaac! Good evening!"
"My lord! After I followed your advice last time, my customers really increased!"
"Ah! Count! Won't you please have a drink tonight, just this once?!"
Things were quite different now.
Unlike the days of Baron Logan, who had caused a massacre, the citizens now welcomed him warmly.
Isaac smiled and waved in return.
"Apologies, but I've been trying to avoid alcohol lately."
"Is that so?! Ah, such a shame."
"That's our Count! Look at him taking care of his health! You should learn from him!"
"What's the point of life without a drink!? Stop nagging at me already!"
Isaac passed by, listening to the everyday chatter of the citizens. The smile on his lips held a hint of bitterness.
'Health, huh…'
He hadn't always avoided alcohol.
Even now, he sometimes joined the Grandmaster or Mu-myeong for a drink when they were in the mood.
'Things really have changed.'
Since the war with the Transcendents ended, the sharp senses he once honed had begun to dull.
The Isaac Logan who could drink without ever getting drunk had vanished. These days, he got tipsy rather easily.
And that was the problem.
Even though he didn't behave disgracefully when drunk, he had a tendency to get overly sentimental.
'Alcohol brings back the past.'
And the past inevitably brought back longing.
Ironically, Isaac, who felt lonely when he drank, had started avoiding alcohol altogether lately.
He didn't want to wake up the next morning feeling unnecessarily melancholic.
'Maybe I should get some work done. Now that I think of it, the Merchant Alliance mentioned needing a meeting about the upcoming festival…'
Another change.
Isaac had no hobbies.
He used to think that once everything was over, he'd take up various hobbies.
He liked reading. Wielding the sword was essential. He had even thought of tending a garden or raising animals.
But he gave up on them all.
More precisely, he could no longer consider them hobbies.
Ironically.
For Isaac, all those things had eventually become nothing more than forms of "waiting."
No matter what he did, it all turned into waiting for them, the ones he believed would someday return to him.
It wasn't something he did because he wanted to—but more like an act done meaninglessly, just to kill time.
The new so-called "golden generation" was living flamboyantly.
But Isaac, who had once been at the center of it all, had already stepped away from the front lines.
"..."
Maybe that's why he often looked at the sky.
He couldn't tell how much time had passed.
But by doing so, he could feel that something was moving, was flowing.
He looked up at the sky again.
Under the setting sun, clouds drifted gently on the wind.
'Another day has passed…'
Thinking that, Isaac finally arrived at his mansion—and just as his gaze dropped again—
"..."
Someone wrapped in a black robe and hood was peeking into the mansion from the front gate, tilting their head in curiosity.
They seemed to be trying to hide their identity, but just from the figure alone, Isaac immediately knew who it was.
He quietly stepped forward as if walking across glass, following the trail of memories tinged with longing.
"Are you a guest?"
He asked calmly, pretending not to know, standing behind her.
Startled, she flinched and slowly turned her body.
She had been clutching the hood tightly to hide her noticeable red hair and crimson eyes. Now, she looked up at Isaac.
Her trembling gaze.
Her tightly clenched hands.
"Ah, um… that is—uh…"
She parted her lips, trying to say something—but in the end, she couldn't utter a single word.
No matter how many times she'd imagined the moment she'd return, when the time finally came, every word she'd wanted to say vanished.
"Are you looking for something you lost?"
Isaac gently reached for Liana's hand.
Flustered, her face turned bright red. Without rushing, as though seeking permission, he softly wrapped her hand in his own.
"Uh… excuse me?"
She was confused, unsure what he meant. But Isaac continued speaking.
"I've always wondered when you'd come. And worried—what if you never did? So I kept this close to my heart."
Isaac pulled a small ring from his pocket.
It had lost its luster, worn down by time—but the traces of touch remained vivid.
In many ways, it was the beginning of everything. The very ring she had returned to him on the day of their divorce.
"And now, this item… has found its rightful owner."
Like it had always belonged there, the ring slid smoothly onto Liana's left ring finger.
"Perfect."
Isaac smiled—calmly, tenderly, like someone finding peace at the end of a long and weary road.
"It suits you well, Lia."
Liana couldn't hold back her tears any longer.
As if trying to make up for all the longing that had piled up inside her chest, she collapsed into his arms and cried.
***
Vwoooom!
With a powerful swing of her massive greatsword, the beast that looked like a giant monkey collapsed.
A red-tinged gust of sword energy swept through it, cutting down its enemies like a storm.
"O-Ohhh!"
"Hoorayyy!"
"Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Hearing the cheers of the villagers behind her, Sharen Helmut slung the greatsword over her shoulder with a smug grin.
"Eh, it was nothing!"
And to Sharen, it really was nothing.
The monsters were laughably weak in her eyes. But that was only from the perspective of someone like Sharen, who'd already lived through more than most despite her young age.
To the villagers, who had been ready to give their lives to protect their families and hometown, it was everything.
"A red-haired woman with a greatsword—could you be…?"
"Helmut. Sharen Helmut. I'm just on a bit of a journey right now!"
"A journey?!"
"Ohh! Oh goddess above!"
"The goddess has surely answered our prayers!"
As the villagers praised the divine for their salvation, Sharen pouted.
"It wasn't the goddess—it was me who saved you…"
But the villagers were already lost in their prayers of gratitude, offering thanks to their deity.
Watching them sing songs of thanks, Sharen finally shouted in frustration.
"Ugh, whatever! I'm hungry! Can I at least get some food?!"
***
The meal the villagers prepared was unexpectedly grand. They'd roasted an entire pig and served it with cheese, butter, and bread.
"Whew! It's been so long since I've had meat!"
Sharen grinned brightly and took a huge bite of the pork.
Chomp chomp chomp chomp.
You could say she ate like a savage, but to put it more nicely, you could call it "eating in true Helmut style."
Since she often went hungry during her travels, she made sure to eat her fill whenever the opportunity arose.
And besides—she had to keep growing into a proper lady.
It had already been half a year since she left on her journey.
But for some reason…
Sharen didn't feel like she'd grown much.
'Why am I not getting any taller?'
Back home she'd eaten well, but on the road, her nutrition had taken a hit, so her growth had slowed a bit.
'At the very least, I want to be taller than my sister.'
Grumbling to herself as she continued eating, a village elder—likely the chief—approached her hesitantly.
"Uh, Lady Helmut… thank you so much for protecting us. If not for you, things would've ended terribly."
"Mhm. Yeah, I was pretty awesome."
"So, um… we'd really like to give you a gift to show our thanks, but with this year's poor harvest…"
"It's fine. I was just passing through. I didn't help you because I wanted anything in return."
"A-Ah! How merciful you are!"
"Just bring me more meat."
"Yes! Right away!"
The chief rushed off to fetch more food.
Watching Sharen devour her meal, he seemed to view her like a granddaughter and lingered nearby, asking cautiously:
"Would it be alright to ask where you're headed? If you'd like, we can offer you a donkey to ride on your journey."
"Me?"
Sharen swallowed her food and answered casually.
"Volten."