By the river, Asta lit another fire, catching and grilling carp with practised ease—his strength and speed more than made up for his lack of magic. Soon enough, he had eaten his fill, his energy slowly returning.
As the sun rose higher, villagers began to stir.
"Hey, look at that kid from the church!"
"Still full of energy even this early? Incredible…"
The villagers of Hage were mostly kindhearted folk. Though poor, they had long since come to admire the grit of the orphans, especially Asta.
****
Back at the church, Father Orsi and Sister Lily stepped outside… and froze.
In front of them stood the bathhouse.
The priest rubbed his eyes. "Am I dreaming, or did that boy actually… build it?"
Sister Lily gasped. "Asta… you really…"
The other orphans came running out behind them, gasping and pointing.
"Waaah! It's huge!"
"He really built it!"
Little Rekka practically sparkled. "Sister Lily, Asta made us a real bathhouse! And I get my own tub!"
Lily blushed. "T-this is far too much…"
"Not enough," Asta said as he walked up from the river, dragging a branch with more fish tied to it. "You guys deserve more."
***
Nash stood off to the side, trembling.
Fifteen hours ago, he thought the whole thing was impossible. That Asta would fail and be humiliated.
But now… the bathhouse stood tall in front of him.
Asta, who had no magic. Asta, who everyone once laughed at. He had done it.
Something cracked inside Nash. His vision blurred, his breath hitched.
"Why… why do you keep doing this?!"
Nash's shout broke through the morning chatter. The others turned to look.
"Asta! Don't you feel ashamed when people laugh at you? When they say you're useless because you have no magic?!"
Asta's eyes narrowed, but he didn't look angry. He stepped forward, voice calm but powerful.
"So what?"
"If people laugh—let them laugh. That won't stop me. Not now. Not ever."
He stood in front of Nash, pointing to his chest.
"I was born without magic. I've been looked down on my whole life. But if there's one thing I will never lose in… it's hard work."
"I drink terrible herbal brews that make me gag. I train until my arms feel like they'll fall off. Why? Because this is how I prove I'm alive. I don't hide behind fear. I fight it."
Nash couldn't respond. He stared, speechless, as Asta turned and began walking away.
"You say dreaming is embarrassing? The real embarrassment… is never even trying."
The silence that followed was heavy—charged with raw emotion.
Even Yuno, leaning against a nearby wall, watched with wide eyes.
This… this is why Asta can stand next to me. No matter how far I go, he catches up.
No… he runs ahead.
****
Nash dropped to his knees.
"Brother Asta!" he shouted, tears falling fast now. "Please… let me train with you! I want to be like you—I don't want to keep hiding!"
Asta turned back, his trademark grin returning.
"Good!" he said, fist pumping the air. "Come find me after breakfast at the demon skull cave! We're gonna burn our youth, Nash!"
"Y-youth?" Nash blinked.
"Yeah!" Asta's voice grew louder, more exaggerated. "From now on, we'll train like maniacs! Push beyond our limits! We'll SCREAM our goals to the sky and punch through every wall in our way!"
Father Orsi sighed. "Oh no, he's gotten more intense."
Yuno cracked a small, rare smile. "That's Asta, alright."
****
"That's right… it really smells like fresh wood!"
Father Orsi bit down on the edge of the doorway, his wrinkled face scrunching in disbelief. "It's real wood, alright!"
"This can't be magic… can it?"
Sister Lily walked into the newly built bathhouse, gently knocking on the wooden walls, tapping the frame, even giving the thick bathtubs a solid push. Her eyes widened with awe. This was no illusion, no illusion magic. This was real craftsmanship—pure, honest labor.
"To be honest…" she whispered, placing a hand over her heart, "I've never seen such a magnificent bathhouse… not even in noble estates."
At that moment, Asta—or rather, Hao Fan, as he sometimes jokingly introduced himself—walked up to Father Orsi with a cheeky grin and leaned in close to his ear.
"Father, what was it you said yesterday again?"
"Cough!" Orsi cleared his throat dramatically and puffed out his chest. "Asta, I solemnly declare that from this day forward, you are the rising star of our church!"
"Yay!!"
Laika, the young red-haired girl from the church, ran up excitedly and clung to Hao Fan's arm. "Can you build us a room divider next, Asta? Please! It's so awkward having to sleep all together at night… I can't even take off my clothes in peace!"
Asta blinked and laughed sheepishly. "Sure! But the church building isn't the same as a bathhouse. It'll take some work, so be patient, alright?"
The children nodded eagerly, already dreaming of their own cozy space.
But before the warmth of the morning could settle in, a scream erupted from the village outskirts.
"Help! It's a wild boar! A huge one!!"
Panic echoed from the fields. Everyone rushed outside and gasped—charging through the crops like a khaki-colored tank was a wild boar nearly three meters tall, its tusks curved like sickles and its eyes burning red with rage.
Villagers threw whatever beginner magic they could muster—water balls, gusts of wind, tiny flames—but most of them were commoners with little mana. Their magic bounced harmlessly off the boar's thick hide.
The beast only got angrier.
Its eyes narrowed as it locked onto a little boy cowering beneath a tree, too frightened to run.
With a furious snort, the wild boar lowered its head and charged, tearing through the ground like a living battering ram.
"No!"
Sister Lily screamed. Father Orsi reached for his staff, but he was too far, too slow.
But a blur shot forward, faster than the eye could follow.
It was Asta.
Wearing nothing but his worn training clothes and sweat dripping from his brow, Asta moved purely on instinct, fueled by the fire of youth blazing inside him.
"Move!!" he shouted, scooping the boy up just before the boar's tusks could hit.
The impact missed by inches—but the sheer force of the wind knocked Asta back into the dirt, shielding the child with his own body.
"You idiot!" Sister Lily yelled, rushing toward them.
But Asta stood up, blood dripping from a small cut on his forehead, and turned to face the beast.
"Nash!" he called out to the boy standing frozen nearby—his fellow orphan who often doubted himself and hid his ambitions. "This is what youth is! It's protecting others even if you're scared. It's charging forward even when you're weak. It's standing up again and again—because your dreams are worth fighting for!"
"Dreams…" Nash whispered, his eyes wide. "But... I don't even know what mine are anymore..."
Asta grinned, wiping blood from his brow. "Then find them. And when you do, protect them with everything you've got."
The wild boar roared again.
Asta cracked his knuckles and faced it head-on.
He didn't have magic. But what he did have—
Was unbreakable will.