At dawn, the research tower's first floor still held the charred smell of medicinal herbs. The night before, Ellen had mispronounced an incantation and scorched a bundle of herbs. The blackened stems still lay at the edge of the stone table. Feln Elzen studied them while writing something in her notebook. Several days had passed since the herb festival. The autumn sunlight had grown clearer, and the birch leaves outside the window made dry, brittle sounds in the breeze. Ellen read aloud from the incantation formula. "[serious]……Once I fix the convergence point of magical power at the base of the flower bud——" Somewhere in the middle, something shifted again. Magical power spilled from his fingertips, escaping control, diffusing across the herbs on the table. A soft white smoke rose. "[serious]In the third verse of your incantation, you're releasing the magical power instead of converging it." Feln spoke without looking up. Ellen's nape flushed red as he reviewed his notes. "[sad]I'm sorry, I made the same mistake again……" "[serious]Repeating the same error is proof you don't understand. Don't just memorize—think about why convergence is necessary at that point." Her words were curt. But her tone held no blame. Because Ellen understood that, he could turn back to his notes. Feln stood and placed her own notebook beside Ellen's. Their shoulders aligned at a distance where they barely touched. Feln pointed to the third verse of the incantation with her finger. "[gentle]Here. Convergence is——the procedure for pouring magical power without destroying the target's structure. With release, you burn it before you can pour anything in." Ellen leaned closer, following Feln's fingertip with his eyes. The distance between them was small. Feln noticed but didn't move. Both their gazes fell on the same place. Suddenly, Ellen smiled slightly. "[gentle]I see……there's no point in burning it, is there. You're right." The corner of Feln's mouth moved faintly. In that moment, the sound of footsteps on stone came from outside. --- Stark Blitz stopped on the stone pavement in front of the research tower. Black hair with red streaks. Crimson eyes. His travel cloak was covered in dust, and on his left shoulder, the outline of an old scar was visible even through the fabric. His build was exceptionally large for a twenty-one-year-old man—in a word, he was a "warrior." He had agonized for months. Staring at ceilings in roadside inns, watching campfires during nights under the stars, deciding "I'll go to Weishardt" countless times, only to find his feet turning in different directions. Since being called a hero, he no longer understood if his sword had meaning. When the battlefield ended, the purpose for his strength disappeared. Wherever he went, rumors arrived first, and people's eyes held only expectations. No one ever asked what Stark Blitz was thinking. That's why he wanted to come here. He hadn't thought Feln might actually listen. But in front of Feln, he didn't need to say unnecessary things. That kind of person was what he needed now. He looked up at the window. In the first-floor window of the research tower, beyond the stone frame, two figures stood side by side. A woman with deep green long hair and a young man with golden hair. At a distance where their shoulders nearly touched, both looking at the same thing. Feln's mouth moved. She was smiling, Stark thought. Feln was smiling. Standing beside someone other than him, smiling. Stark remained frozen on the stone pavement, unable to move. Something was born in his chest. It had no words, but it hurt. For ten years, wandering from place to place, he had thought of Feln continuously. He knew it was too late to realize it now. But he hadn't expected the pain to be this sharp. Stark turned on his heel. He decided to stay at an inn tonight. --- Before noon, the regular carriage from Gräzen arrived at the central plaza of Weishardt. At the entrance of the inn "Linde's Branch," the proprietor Berta was cheerfully greeting a traveler receiving luggage. When a woman descended from the carriage, Berta greeted her at first like any other traveler. She had purple medium-length hair tied to one side. She was short, but her posture held an unusual composure. From her neck to her shoulders, a pattern like a snake coiling around was visible——a tattoo. Her right eye was gold, her left silver——heterochromia. A thin smile rested on her lips as she slowly surveyed the plaza. Serika Vahn was nineteen years old. Something about her felt heavier than her appearance suggested. The air around her was somehow humid. "[gentle]I'd like to rent a room for a few days, if you please." Berta responded cheerfully while feeling a slight tension internally. She wasn't a bad person. But somehow, one couldn't let their guard down. That was the sensation. After depositing her luggage, Serika immediately visited Ellen's room. She had timed it to coincide with when Ellen would return to the inn for lunch——information she had calculated from details obtained from contacts at the Holy City Wilhelm Church. When she knocked, Ellen came to the door. "[surprised]Serika……why are you here?" On Ellen's face, "why" appeared before joy. Serika didn't miss that. "[gentle]It's been so long, Ellen. I heard you were studying magic here in Weishardt, and I just had to come see you." Her voice was soft, her expression calm. But Ellen had known Serika since their time growing up in the Holy City Wilhelm Church's orphanage. Serika almost never acted for purely innocent reasons. Ellen understood this instinctively. In the early afternoon, Ellen guided Serika to the research tower. Feln opened the door. Deep green long hair, amber eyes. She regarded the visitor with an expressionless face. "[serious]An acquaintance of Ellen's?" "[gentle]How do you do, Professor Feln. I'm Serika Vahn. Ellen and I grew up together from childhood——in the Holy City Wilhelm Church's orphanage." She was polite and courteous. But Feln sensed something in the depths of the other's eyes. Behind the smile, there was no warmth. Feln nodded briefly. Serika watched Feln while thinking. The woman who brought Ellen here. The one Ellen sees with those eyes——as more than just a teacher. Something in her throat burned faintly. --- In the evening, after Serika and Ellen had withdrawn to the inn, Stark knocked on the research tower's door. The moment Feln opened it, a short silence fell between them. Feln remembered what Berta had mentioned last night——"a warrior-like man was asking about Feln." And now, seeing this face before her——Stark, she thought. It had been ten years. Stark tried to say something but couldn't. Words like "I wanted to see you" or "I finally made it here" all caught in his throat, blocked by the hours he'd spent standing on the stone pavement, watching the two figures in the window. "[cold]……I was passing through Weishardt. That's all." "[serious]Come inside." The two sat across from each other at the stone table on the first floor. Berta brought them beer, but neither touched it. The conversation didn't progress. Neither of them had much they particularly wanted to say——that was the honest truth. Stark may have simply wanted to listen to Feln. Feln realized this too, but didn't know where to begin. Feln spoke about her research. About the magic to make flowers bloom, about Ordina's examination, about the herb festival demonstration. About how Ellen had helped her. As Stark listened, he remembered the scene from earlier. The two of them standing side by side in the window, laughing. Feln's voice becoming slightly softer only when speaking of her apprentice. He heard it. "[cold]I'll stay at an inn tonight." He stood and said that. Feln didn't try to stop him. That, too, stung. --- That night, the tavern "Grüne Laterne" was crowded with local laborers. The smell of beer and mutton. Pushing open the thick wooden door, warmth and laughter greeted him. Stark sat in a corner seat and drank alone from his glass. After a while, the chair across from him was pulled out. Gold and silver heterochromatic eyes regarded Stark quietly. "[gentle]Are you alone?" It was the woman he'd briefly seen at the research tower that afternoon. The one who claimed to be Ellen's childhood friend. Stark neither nodded nor shook his head, but Serika took that as permission and sat down. "[gentle]I heard from the innkeeper that you're Professor Feln's childhood friend. Berta, was it——she certainly does share a lot about Weishardt, doesn't she?" Stark set down his glass. "[cold]……What do you want to know?" "[gentle]Nothing in particular. It's just that you seem to have come back after a long time too. I thought we were in the same situation." The two spoke in fits and starts for a while. Where they'd come from, when they'd arrived in Weishardt. Serika said she'd come from Gräzen. Stark didn't say much. When the beer was half gone, Serika said casually. "[gentle]By the way——I arrived in Weishardt a bit late on the night of the herb festival, and I passed through the area near Stargazing Hill." Stark listened silently. "[gentle]It was dark since it was night, but……I saw Professor Feln and Ellen holding each other close. I was quite surprised." Stark's hand holding the glass stopped. "[gentle]I think Ellen has always liked Professor Feln——more than just as a teacher. Becoming her apprentice was partly because of that, I think. And the Professor seems to think of that child as special too——the two of them have become quite close, haven't they?" Her voice was calm. It sounded like a mere observation, without ulterior motive. Stark's expression vanished. Serika, while tilting her glass, confirmed the quality of that silence. It had struck. Precisely. Serika quietly organized her thoughts internally. This man held feelings for Feln. She had just touched that wound with accuracy. The lie was minimal——it was true that the two had been together at Stargazing Hill. Only the expression "holding each other close" was far removed from the actual fact of "their fingers touched when trying to reach for a birch leaf." But Stark had no way to verify it. What Serika wanted from Ellen was one thing: to separate her from Feln. To use this man for that purpose held not a shred of hesitation. --- Deep in the night, the research tower's door was knocked upon. Feln came down to the first floor with a lamp. Opening the door, Stark stood there——the same Stark who had left at dusk, but his expression was different. His eyes were hard. "[serious]……Are you in that kind of relationship with Ellen?" Feln didn't understand what he meant. "[serious]I don't understand what you're referring to." "[cold]The night of the herb festival. I heard you were together at Stargazing Hill." In Feln's mind, the memory of that night moved. The birch hill. Sitting side by side under the stars. The moment Ellen's finger touched Feln's cheek. That silence, and her own hand that she couldn't pull away. Heat rose to her cheeks. "[serious]That's not it." She said that, but her face had already flushed before the words came out. Feln said "that's not it." It was true. She and Ellen weren't in that kind of relationship. But the shock of having that night suddenly brought up was showing itself in her body's honest reaction. That's not it——the words that should have followed didn't come immediately. Stark looked at Feln's face. Flushed cheeks. Eyes that wouldn't meet his. Words that wouldn't continue. "[cold]……I see." His voice was quiet. He didn't shout. That made it heavier. Stark turned on his heel. Before walking away on the stone pavement, only his voice remained beyond the door. "[whispers]So it is like that after all." Feln's hand went to the door. She should chase after him, she thought. She should explain that it wasn't like that. But she couldn't organize what to