At dawn, the morning light fell thin and pale across the stone walls of the Silent Tower. The forest of Ergnoir was dark even in daylight. The canopy choked off the sun, leaving a perpetual twilight suspended beneath the leaves. Yet in the tower's first floor, in the small room given to ミリサール, the cold morning air seeped through the gaps in the stone—barely, but enough to be felt. ミリサール was remembering the night before. The starlit roof. セリスラン's profile. The warmth of soup. That strange sensation—emotions fading, yet something moving somewhere deep in her chest, something undeniable. A feeling she couldn't quite name. It was the fourth morning of her training. "Come in," a voice called from beyond the door. It was セリスラン's voice. ミリサール rose and made her way to the practice chamber. When she opened the door to the second floor, セリスラン・ヴァレンティス stood with his back against the windowless wall. His silver hair was bound behind him, and his black robes hung motionless, nearly brushing the floor. The thin silver tattoo on his right cheek glowed faintly in the purple light. His ash-silver eyes fixed on her—that familiar, cold gaze. "Today's training is outside," "Outside...?" ミリサール felt a small jolt of surprise. For the past three days, everything had been conducted within the tower. "[serious] Go to the ravine district in the mid-levels of Ergnoir. Alone," セリスラン extended a piece of parchment—a roughly sketched map. "There, sense the presence of dark magic and return. This is the final test of your four days of fundamentals. Dark magic outside the tower is different from what you've felt within these walls. Learn to perceive it with your own senses," "Just...sense it and come back? That's all?" "[cold] If you lose your way, return. If you encounter monsters, don't run—sense them," With that, he turned his back. The conversation was over—his posture made that clear. ミリサール stared at that cold back. (My teacher really is...) There was so much she wanted to say. But four days had taught her that words would be wasted. She rolled up the map and stepped outside the tower. --- The mid-levels of the Abyss Forest Ergnoir were darker still than the tower's surroundings. The trees grew massive here. Their roots sprawled across the earth like grasping fingers. The smell of decomposing leaves hung thick and heavy. Light barely penetrated. Though it was midday, the world wore the dimness of dusk. Beneath her feet, something stirred—small creatures, perhaps, or something else. ミリサール walked with her consciousness fixed on the soul-mark at her left wrist. To sense the presence of dark magic, she needed to quietly open the dark wellspring within herself. She gathered her awareness at her fingertips, reading the flow of magical currents around her. (It's here. It's definitely here.) Different from the tower's surroundings. A rougher, wilder dark magic seemed woven into the very air. To sense it—yes, just as セリスラン had said, it was different. The ravine district drew near. Rocks multiplied. The ground rose and fell. The sound of flowing water reached her ears from a distance. As ミリサール approached the ravine's edge, she stopped. A presence. Not dark magic—the presence of a living thing. She turned slowly. There, in the shadow of a tree, it waited. A spider larger than a meter long. Eight legs. A body black as lacquer, its surface gleaming as though wet. A shadow-spider—a creature native to Ergnoir, one that spat threads infused with dark magic. But there was not just one. Left. Right. Behind. Three of them. They had surrounded her. (This is bad.) The shadow-spider's compound eyes glinted. ミリサール quickly gathered dark magic into her left hand. Blood beaded at her fingertips. Dark magic surged—but her control wavered. (Calm down, calm down...!) Shadows began to pool in her palm. But all three spiders moved at once. A thread shot from the left. ミリサール leaped back, but her feet tangled. She caught herself on a rock, preventing a fall. (No good. Three at once—I can't handle this yet.) Panic was spreading when— "Wait, that's counterproductive," a bright voice called from above. A figure dropped from the trees. Chestnut-brown hair, tousled and short. Sharp amber eyes. A lean but muscular frame bearing an old scar on his left shoulder. Two short swords held ready in both hands. Without hesitation, the man charged toward one of the shadow-spiders. The blades flashed. A single stroke. He severed the spider's leg at the joint, and his second blade pierced the seam of its body. It collapsed with a sound like breaking glass. The second spider—he circled, striking from behind. The third—he timed his strike for the instant before it could spit its thread. His blade sang through the air. All three, dispatched in less than ten seconds. The man wiped his swords clean and sheathed them, then turned to ミリサール. "You alright?" ミリサール remained frozen, her hand still on the rock. (Who...is this person?) Wariness came first. It was rare to meet another human in this forest. And considering that she bore the mark of a fallen saint— ミリサール stood and stepped back, creating distance. "...Thank you. Who are you?" "ダリオン. I'm a mercenary. This forest is my territory," The man—ダリオン—answered without hesitation. There was no wariness in his eyes. If anything, he seemed amused by her. "You were wandering around here alone, so I got curious and watched. Your dark magic control—you're still getting used to it, aren't you? When you panic, it falls apart," ミリサール relaxed her guard slightly, though she didn't fully trust him. "...Do you know what I am?" "A fallen saint," He said it so simply. ミリサール's body stiffened. "[laughing] I know. Your face is well-known. But—" ダリオン gave a small shrug. "It's not my concern," Those words slipped into her chest like water finding a crack. ミリサール felt her shoulders drop, almost without her noticing. Saint or fallen saint. Servant of the Church or heretic. For two years—no, for twelve years since her selection as a saint—everyone's gaze had fallen into one of those two categories. She had expected nothing different now. But this man had said it wasn't his concern. "...You're strange," "I get that a lot," ダリオン laughed. A bright, uncomplicated laugh. "Want to rest a bit? There's a good spot on the ravine rocks—good footing," ミリサール hesitated. But her legs were trembling—the lingering shock of panic. "...Just for a moment," The two of them settled on a large rock overlooking the ravine. The sound of flowing water echoed in the distance. Dappled sunlight fell across the stone's surface. "What brings you alone to a forest like this?" "...I'm in training, that's all," "Hmm. You have a teacher?" "I do," "And they just threw you out here alone? That's harsh," ミリサール couldn't help but smile wryly. The word "threw" was oddly precise. "...Perhaps," "But you were sensing the dark magic just fine. You noticed before the spiders surrounded you, didn't you?" "I sensed them, but I couldn't respond in time," "That takes experience. Nobody gets everything right from the start," He said it simply, and there was no lie in it. ミリサール sat beside ダリオン, listening to the water's song. In the forest's deep silence, she found herself in a moment she hadn't experienced in a long time—a moment where no one asked her who she was. A smile came naturally. --- She returned to the tower late in the afternoon. ミリサール opened the door to the second-floor practice chamber to make her report. セリスラン stood near the windowless wall, his back to her. "I've returned. I was able to sense the presence of dark magic in the ravine district," セリスラン didn't turn around. Silence stretched. "You took too long getting back," "I was surrounded by shadow-spiders on the way..." At those words, セリスラン moved—just slightly. His shoulders shifted. He remained facing the dark trees beyond the window. "Did you defeat them alone?" "...No. A mercenary helped me," Silence. "I see," Just that. Nothing more. セリスラン walked to the desk and began writing something on parchment. ミリサール waited a moment, but he said nothing else. She left the room. --- The next morning. When ミリサール arrived at the practice chamber, a piece of parchment lay on the table. Today's training regimen. She read it and froze. "...What?" Her voice came out small. The morning training had doubled from two hours to four. A new item had been added: simultaneously maintain three shadow-walls. Yesterday, she could barely manage one. "[surprised] It's...doubled," The door opened. セリスラン entered. "Yesterday's sensing exercise was a failure," "...A failure?" "You sensed the presence too late. Being surrounded by spiders means you failed," His voice was harder than usual. ミリサール looked from the parchment to セリスラン. "A failure? But I only made it back because someone helped me—" She stopped mid-sentence and closed her mouth. "Someone helped you." The moment those words left her lips, セリスラン's eyebrow twitched—barely perceptible, but she caught it. (Wait...) Something caught in her chest. セリスラン's gaze fell to the parchment. "Double the load starting today," "...Yes," (But why double it? Even if it was a failure, why would he—) Understanding was beginning to dawn. --- The doubled training was exactly as brutal as it sounded. Three shadow-walls simultaneously—that meant controlling her dark magic in three directions at once. In the first two hours, ミリサール failed repeatedly, corrected, and failed again. It wasn't until past noon that she managed to hold all three walls for two seconds. The afternoon brought another two hours. By evening, when she collapsed onto the practice chamber floor, her entire body felt heavy. The soul-mark at her left wrist burned. Her arms trembled. Footsteps approached. セリスラン entered, carrying a ceramic bowl. Water. Cold groundwater, freshly drawn. He held it out to her. She took it and drank. The cold traced down her throat. "[serious] Did you speak with someone yesterday?" His voice was casual. Too casual. Deliberately casual. ミリサール held the bowl and looked up at him. "...The mercenary helped me, and we rested for a moment," セリスラン's gaze shifted away, just slightly. "I see," Brief. That was all. Normally—he would have said something like "Don't let them interfere with your training. Stay away from them." But today he said nothing. That silence resonated quietly in ミリサール's chest. (Could it be...) The thing that had nagged at her since yesterday was taking shape. The doubled training. His voice being harder than usual. The way his eyebrow had moved at the word "helped." And now this question: "Did you speak with someone?" (Is my teacher...concerned?) ミリサール lowered her eyes slightly. She didn't know if she was happy or frightened. Her emotions were supposed to be fading, yet when she thought of this teacher, her chest grew restless and unsettled. セリスラン said nothing more and left the practice chamber. The door closed. ミリサール stared at the bowl. The water's surface trembled faintly. (Am I frightened or happy? Which is it?) Not knowing, she let that feeling settle quietly within her. --- Meanwhile, at the outer edge of the Abyss Forest Ergnoir. ライエル・ヴァルデル stood looking down at the ground. Silver-gray hair. Brilliant ice-blue eyes. A deep combat scar on his right cheek and a black mark on his left ear—the sign of a light knight. For days now, he had been carefully examining the forest's boundary. Today he had come as far as the outer edge near the ravine. ライエル studied the footprints in the earth. Tracks that seemed to belong to ミリサール. Beside them, another set of prints. The size and the sole pattern—the distinctive markings of a mercenary's leather boots. (Another person was here.) A man's footprints. ライエル stood and traced them with his eyes. They ran parallel to ミリサール's tracks. Toward the rocks—evidence that two people ha