Dawn light seeped slowly through the gaps in the abandoned cottage. Even after the night watch ended, Aira couldn't move immediately. Her back remained against the stone wall. The right hand resting on her knee still wouldn't release the sensation from last night. It had started to lift just a few centimeters before she noticed and stopped it—the memory of that right hand. Her body had moved before her will could catch up, in that single instant. The embers of the campfire rose in thin white smoke. The Emerald Twilight Forest—the deep woods that spread across the southern foothills of the Jade Peak Mountains in the empire's east, where the demon-kind had dwelt since ancient times—had a cold morning. Light filtering through the gaps in the leaves cut thin lines across the stone pavement. Aira rose to her feet, lifting her knees slowly. (There's no need to organize this. Don't think about it. It's the mission.) The moment she decided that, the cottage door swung open forcefully. "—Wow, it's morning!" It was Lilia. Her silver short bob still disheveled from sleep, she tumbled out of the cottage dragging her blanket behind her. The thin purple pupils of her odd eyes were still drowsy. She approached the dying campfire, crouched down, and held her hands toward it while blinking rapidly. Then Lilia slowly lifted her face and looked at Aira. Next, she looked at Raid. Raid had his back against the opposite stone wall, his eyes open. After last night's battle with the magnetooth beasts, his face showed an unusually light trace of fatigue. Perhaps it was because the atmospheric magic essence of the Emerald Twilight Forest kept touching his corroded magical circuits. The pale blue scar on his left arm showed faintly in the morning light. Lilia began observing Raid's face intently. Three seconds. Five seconds. "...What?" Raid's low voice broke the silence. "Something's off. The old man's starting to not look like an old man anymore," Lilia said with pure curiosity. There wasn't a shred of malice in it. She was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, exactly as they came to her. Aira reflexively opened her mouth. "Lilia, that topic is—" "You were watching him all night too, weren't you, Aira?" Lilia pressed on. The follow-up came with zero malice as well. It was just an observation report. Lilia's thin purple eyes sought pure confirmation from Aira. Aira's voice rose by a single note. "...That was the watch. Part of the mission." "But your hand stopped moving partway through," Lilia said. "It didn't stop," Aira replied. "It did. About three times," Lilia countered. "Is she talking about me?" Raid interjected with an off-target confirmation. Aira's rebuttal hung suspended in the air. Should she address Raid or Lilia? Neither direction offered a right answer. She could feel the furrow deepening between her brows. At that moment, Golt passed by from behind the settlement. Broad shoulders, eyes that revealed no emotion. He seemed to be in the middle of his morning rounds and was about to cross in front of the three of them when—perhaps unable to grasp the structure of their conversation—he paused for a beat, then silently walked away. Near a distant stone wall, Calva stood with his arms crossed. The corner of his mouth was relaxed, just barely, truly just barely. Aira looked straight ahead. Her face was hot. She could feel it even in the cold morning air. "...I'll conduct the final morning watch confirmation," Aira said. "Please do," Lilia replied with a smile. *** In the morning, restoration work on the settlement began. The magnetooth beasts from last night—large magical creatures that had migrated with the eastern invasion, their shoulder height matching that of an adult man—had destroyed part of the stone outer wall. Broken stones were being restacked, collapsed fences rebuilt. Simple work, but labor-intensive. Golt came to Raid's side and gestured with his chin toward the pile of broken stones. There were no words. But his eyes said "help." Raid looked at it for just a moment, then nodded. The afterglow of last night's magical fusion still lingered in his left arm. The depths of his magical circuits held a dull heat. But it wasn't enough to prevent him from working. Raid lifted the stones and carried them to the positions Golt indicated, using only his body's strength, not magic. His movements were more certain than three days ago, the awkwardness fading. The gazes of the settlement's demon-kind were shifting subtly. Those who had witnessed last night's battle. Not rejection or wariness, but something quieter. A look that seemed to be reassessing what this human mage was. Calva spoke briefly to Raid while organizing the stones. "The next one goes there." His tone was equal—not a command or a request, but simply conveying information. Different from the man who three days ago had placed his hand on his sword hilt saying "the human mage cannot enter." The shift from rejection to trust wasn't happening through dramatic events, but through the quiet accumulation of such words. "Understood," Raid answered shortly, lifting the next stone. Aira was assigned to a different work group. She was paired with middle-aged demon-kind women, working on fence repairs. The work continued in silence. Few words were exchanged, but understanding was being born gradually in the way hands moved and materials were passed. Occasionally, Raid's figure appeared at the edge of her vision. His back as he carried stones. His profile as he exchanged brief words with Golt. His slightly stiff waist as he nodded to Calva's instructions. (His waist still seems to hurt.) The moment she thought that, Aira deliberately turned her gaze back to the fence in her hands. It was the third time. She kept noticing and looking away, repeating that motion. If confirmation was necessary for the mission, she could look. But there was no reason to look. Yet her eyes kept turning that way. Golt muttered something nearby. Aira couldn't catch it, but a middle-aged man from the settlement—apparently making rounds of the work—looked at Aira and asked Golt quietly, "Is that what imperial knights are like?" "I suppose," Golt answered simply. Aira added another piece of wood to the fence. She wanted to say, "As vice-captain of the advance unit of the Imperial Knight Order's Armored Heron Knights, I am acting appropriately," but she didn't. It wasn't the right context. In the afternoon, Lilia was in the circle of children. The settlement's children had initially kept their distance, but Lilia's expressive smile and her friendly way of speaking—mixing the demon-kind's language with human speech—didn't take long to break down the walls. A girl of seven or eight touched Lilia's silver hair and said it was pretty. Lilia laughed, seeming ticklish. Soon Lilia began singing something. A simple, bright melody like what imperial children sang. The children began imitating her. One said, "She's like a human." Lilia's smile wavered slightly. Just for an instant. For just one instant, the shape of that smile changed. A quiet tremor, as if confirming herself—neither human nor demon-kind, but both. It quickly returned to her usual smile, but Aira saw it from a distance. (Where does that child belong?) The question sank quietly into her heart. *** At dusk, as the sun approached the treetops of the Emerald Twilight Forest. A thin stream flowed south of the settlement. Its name was unknown. About two meters wide, shallow, with clear water. The stones on the riverbank were dyed orange by the setting sun. Aira was maintaining her equipment there. The leather belt buckle of her armor had been damaged in last night's battle. She took out leather cord to repair it—simple work. Only the sound of water flowed in this quiet place. *Zash*—the sound of grass being stepped on. It was Raid. He seemed to have come to fetch water, holding a wooden bowl. After last night's battle, he had apparently removed his metal water flask himself and was using a replacement vessel instead. "Am I in your way?" Raid asked. "No," Aira replied. The brief exchange ended, and the two fell silent. Raid crouched by the riverbank and dipped the bowl into the water. Aira continued maintaining the leather cord. Only the sound of water flowed between them. The setting sun dissolved into the river surface. Orange and red light spread, wavering. The silence continued from neither direction in particular. It wasn't unpleasant, which struck Aira as strange. Raid lifted the bowl from the river and gazed at his left arm as it was. The pale blue scar running along the inside of his forearm—the mark of damage from magical fusion. Magical fusion was a technique that forcibly expanded the magical circuits within the body and directly connected them to atmospheric magic essence, allowing magical output several times normal. The empire had forbidden it for two hundred years, and research was not permitted. The price of that was carved into this arm. "When I was in the empire," Raid began quietly, his voice low and mixing with the sound of the river. "The imperial court wanted my magical fusion. As a test subject. They didn't want to let a living practitioner go. Because of that, my discharge papers were held up for half a year," Raid continued. There was self-deprecating humor in the way he spoke. But tonight, the words seemed to come from a deeper place. Aira's hands stopped on the leather cord. "After that, I came to the frontier and three years passed. I didn't think I'd be useful. I just... there were no people here who saw me as a weapon. That was, well, quiet and good," Raid said. He spoke matter-of-factly, still looking at the river. The reflection of the setting sun wavered in his amber eyes. Forty-two years of time carved into his profile. Dignity and exhaustion coexisted. "Even being recognized by Calva and the others last night was because I'm useful," Raid said shortly. He turned his gaze back to the bowl. "That's enough," Raid said. Aira's hands stopped completely. (That's enough? Just because I'm useful?) The words caught in her chest. Not from a knight's sense of duty. Not from a mission's sense of obligation. Something from a more personal place, from somewhere without a name, quietly resisted. Being recognized because he was useful. That's all. Could someone really say that and mean it? The loneliness contained in those words—the quiet of the riverbank delivered it to Aira. She had no words to return. There was a feeling that she should say something. But she couldn't organize what that should be. The fingers holding the leather cord trembled slightly. Aira noticed it herself. "...I see," Aira finally said. That was all. Raid nodded shortly and stood up, favoring his waist slightly, but moving more easily than yesterday. Aira watched his retreating figure in the setting sun for a while. Only the sound of the river remained. Still holding the leather cord, Aira looked at the river surface. Orange light wavered. (Useful, so that's enough. That can't be right.) She couldn't explain where that feeling came from. *** Late night came. In the watch rotation, Aira and Raid stood in front of the abandoned cottage. Lilia was wrapped in her blanket inside the cottage, breathing in regular sleep. Calva and Golt had returned to other positions in the settlement. It was a night with many stars. The night air of the Emerald Twilight Forest was cold, and the stone pavement quietly reflected the starlight. In the distance, an owl cried. Then sound ceased. Raid soon had his back against the wall, his eyes closed. His breathing deepened. It was unclear whether he was asleep or falling asleep, the boundary indistinct. The white hair among his black locks reflected the starlight for just an instant. Aira was looking forward. She tried to look forward. But after several minutes of silence, her gaze slowly moved sideways. Rai