[Lyra's POV]
Lyra stood by the bedside, her heart thumping hard against her ribs.
She was a trained assassin—a woman who had walked through the darkest corners of Aetheris and stepped over corpses without blinking.
…Yet right now, her hands were trembling.
She looked at the young man sitting on the bed.
Leo von Celestial.
She had served him for years. She had endured his shouting, cleaned up his spilled wine, and stayed silent while he threw fits of jealousy. She knew the rhythm of his breathing, the ugly sharpness in his voice when he was angry.
But the man sitting before her was different.
He wasn't screaming. He wasn't insulting her.
"I just wanted to say sorry," he had said. "Sorry for everything."
Lyra felt a chill slide down her spine. Her first instinct wasn't gratitude—it was fear. A deep, crawling fear that this was just another lie, or worse, a cruel new game.
"What do you mean by that?" Lyra asked, her voice tight. "Are you alright, Young Master? Did you… did you hit your head too hard when you fell?"
Leo didn't get angry. He didn't even flinch. He simply looked at her with a small, weary smile—a look so calm it made Lyra want to shout in confusion.
"I am alright," Leo replied, his voice steady. "And I meant those words. I really apologize for what I've put you through. I know I've been a brat and hurt you and many others. I also know I can't change the past. But I can at least try to change the present."
Lyra stared at him, blinking fast as if trying to wake from a dream. The Leo she knew would never admit he was a "brat." He would never look someone in the eye with such raw honesty. She searched his face for a lie, but his deep ocean-blue eyes were clear—no shadows, no hidden mockery.
"You… you are being grateful?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
"I am," Leo said.
Lyra bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. A wave of emotion crashed into her chest, but she forced it down, swallowing hard.
For years, she had waited for a single word of kindness, only to receive disdain. Now that it was here, she didn't know how to hold it—didn't know if she even should.
She still didn't believe it. She wanted to trust him—but how could she?
Leo had once been her hero. The one who saved her from her deepest hell and filled her world with light.
___
Lyra was not born in some grand noble house—not even a normal one. Her parents were poor. They lived in a small town at the edge of the Human Domain. Her parents knew how to use mana, but they only had low-rank cores. Her mother was a village doctor; her father was a low-level ranker in the town guard.
Unlike other kids, Lyra was mentally mature. She never asked for gifts or toys. She never begged for things her parents couldn't afford. She just wanted to enjoy life with them—the sound of her mother humming while mixing herbs, the sight of her father coming home tired but smiling.
She learned how to be happy even in those hard conditions.
Because of her bright personality, everyone in the town loved her. Her smile was like a treasure to them—a small light in their simple lives.
Life was peaceful. She was happy.
However…
Everything fell apart when an incursion happened.
A gate opened near her town. No one came to clear it in time. Monsters started pouring out—twisted, snarling things that didn't belong in the daylight. They killed everyone.
Her parents—low-level rankers—tried to save her.
Her mother hid her in a small basement under their house, hands shaking as she pushed Lyra inside.
"Even if you hear noises," her mother said, tears in her eyes but voice firm. "We love you. Don't lose your smile. Stay here. We'll come back for you."
…And Lyra did.
She stayed in that damp, dark basement, smiling like a fool, believing her parents would come back soon. Everything was going to be okay.
She stayed even when she heard noises above—thuds, crashes, gurgling cries. Even when she heard screams. Even… when she heard the screams of her own parents, her friends, everyone she once knew.
She kept assuring herself they would come back.
But deep down in her heart, she knew.
She knew... they weren't coming back.
She tried to smile, but her tears wouldn't stop. She tried again and again to smile through the sobs, but her tears kept flowing. She forced a smile onto her face until her cheeks ached.
She stayed hidden, waiting. They never came back. She stayed there for three days.
After three days, she pushed the door open. Her body was weak from hunger. Her legs almost gave out. Still, she crawled out into the light.
She saw the bodies. Her friends. The baker's daughter. The old woman who always gave her sweets. All the townsfolk she once knew—gone. Their bodies were torn, broken, still.
…And her parents.
Their bodies were ripped apart, like something had tried to shred them into pieces.
Her mother's hands were missing—both of them—cleanly torn off at the wrists. One of her legs was bent wrong, snapped backwards at the knee. Her father's body was nearly in halves from shoulder to hip, and a few meters away, his head lay facing the sky, eyes still open.
But seeing their dead bodies… she didn't cry.
Her tears had run dry. She just stood there, a hollow smile on her face, her eyes blank and empty. She had lost her purpose.
She didn't know how long she stayed in the silent village. Time lost meaning. No one came for days.
Until some human traffickers found her. They sold her at an auction house in the next city.
She didn't care. Her life was already over. She had no purpose left. She could die, or be sold to anyone.
…Or so she thought.
Until he appeared.
Leo von Celestial. The heir of one of the greatest noble families. He bought her at the auction—and then he set her free.
"You're free," he told her, his eyes bright and curious, soft with a kindness she hadn't seen in years. "You can go anywhere. No one will stop you."
When she refused to leave—because where would she go?—he brought her home and made her his personal maid.
He never asked her to do anything hard. He just… talked to her. He was like a curious puppy, always following her, trying to make her smile. He laughed at his own jokes. He stared with wide, interested eyes. He was clingy in a way that was annoying at first.
But soon, she got used to him. She didn't even realize when her eyes started to become bright again. When her smile started to return—real, not forced.
Each day, she saw him. Sometimes he practiced swordplay in the courtyard, clumsy but determined. Sometimes he spent hours in the library, buried in books. He was interesting. Different. She decided, quietly, to serve him for her whole life.
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't lost everything.
But her happiness didn't last.
When Leo awakened a B-rank core, he changed. The envy ate him from the inside. He broke all his connections. He got into drinking, drugs, became a delinquent. He used his status to hurt people—and she was one of the people he hurt the most.
She waited. She waited for the day her young master would become good again.
But it never came.
…Until now.
___
He was apologizing.
She didn't believe it. It wasn't that she didn't want to—she was scared. Terrified this might be a dream. Or worse, that he was pretending, setting her up for a deeper hurt. Yet her heart whispered, faint but clear, to trust him once more.
She moved closer, her hand shaking as she reached out to touch his forehead. Her fingers were cold. "You don't have a fever… but you are saying strange things. Maybe I should call the doctor. Your brain… it must be damaged."
She watched him gently push her hand away. He wasn't violent. He didn't shove her. He just moved with a quiet dignity she had never seen from him—a calmness that felt foreign on Leo's face.
"Nothing is wrong with me, Lyra," he said, his gaze drifting to the window for a moment before meeting hers again. "I just realized… I don't want to run anymore."
He's serious, she realized. Her breath caught.
A strange feeling bloomed in her chest—a fragile mix of hope and terrifying uncertainty.
She stared at his face, and there was that same bright smile she remembered from long ago, before the core, before the jealousy, before everything broke.
She drew a slow, shaky breath. Her voice trembled when she spoke.
"…Do you really mean it?"
And once again, the answer was the same.
"Yes."
Lyra couldn't hold it anymore. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She didn't even realize she had started crying until the first tear hit her cheek—then another, and another. These were tears she had been holding back for years, locked away behind the mask of the Silent Blade.
Seeing her cry, Leo suddenly panicked. He looked like a clueless fool, fumbling with the blankets, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Wait—hey! Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?"
Seeing him act so confused and awkward—just like the old Leo, the one she remembered—a small, real smile broke through her tears.
For the first time in years, Lyra—the Silent Blade of Celestial—cried and smiled at the same time.
If anyone saw this scene, they wouldn't believe what was happening in front of their eyes.