Night broke. Feln Elzen remained with her back against the wall. Her master Frieren's grimoire lay open across her knees. The lamp had burned through its oil during the night and gone dark. In the first floor of the stone research tower, the thin light of morning filtered through the windows. Only the sound of birch leaves rustling in the wind repeated itself, quietly and endlessly. She did not know how many hours had passed since she stopped crying. The notice of research funding termination. Stark Blitz's back. The way Ellen Garde's gaze had stopped meeting hers. All of it had sunk to the bottom of her chest and would not move. Feln placed her hand on the grimoire's cover. The texture of leather. Cold. That alone was the only certain thing that existed here now. As she tried to close the grimoire, she noticed something wedged between the pages. A folded piece of paper. She took it out. Unfolded it. It was Ellen's handwriting. Small, careful, meticulous. A string of coordinate numbers. Beside them, written in tiny letters: "Birch forest, westward direction. Approximately two hours on foot. Cross-referenced with margin coordinates from grimoire chapter three." Feln stared at that paper for a long time. Ellen had deciphered the cipher in her master's grimoire. Since when. How long ago. Had Ellen been reading the numbers in the margins of this grimoire ever since the day he applied to become her apprentice? All alone, without saying a word to her. Feln stood up. The termination notice was still on the desk. She did not know where Stark was. She did not know what Ellen had been thinking last night. Not knowing any of it, her body moved first. She threw on her traveling clothes, clutched a single grimoire, and opened the door. Outside, the air was cold. The sky was dull gray, and snow had begun to fall. It was rare for snow to fall in Weishardt at the end of autumn. White particles accumulated on the birch branches. Feln looked up at it for only a moment, then began walking west. --- She passed through the entrance to the Birch Forest of Weiswald. The trees grew taller, and the sunlight thinned. A thin layer of snow lay on the fallen leaves, and with each step came a damp sound. Two hours. She walked. As she progressed deeper into the forest, the birch trunks grew denser. The sound of wind passing through the trees seemed to come from somewhere far away. Feln walked while checking the coordinate memo again and again. She avoided places where the ground had become mud, stepped over places where roots jutted from the earth. Then she saw it. An old stone pillar, half-buried in moss and roots. A stone monument. Its height reached about Feln's waist. Fine characters were carved into the surface of the gray stone. Feln stood before it. Snow continued to fall. A thin white layer had accumulated on the monument as well. She reached out and brushed the snow away. The characters appeared. She read them. ——You are no longer alone. You are simply slow to realize it. It was her master Frieren's handwriting. Feln looked at those characters. Looked at them still. She understood the meaning. One character at a time, slowly. "You are." "No longer alone." "Simply slow to realize it." Her knees gave way. She collapsed before the stone monument, pressing her forehead against the cold stone surface. The cold of the stone transmitted through her forehead. Snow accumulated on her shoulders. She did not brush it away. Her master, still missing, had left only these characters in the depths of this forest. When had she carved them. Had she meant for someone to see them. Or——had she written them for herself. Feln remained with her forehead against the stone, unable to move. Unable to cry. Before tears could come, there was only the sensation of something quietly crumbling deep within her chest. For ten years, she had suppressed the part of herself that needed someone. She had thought she was choosing to be alone. But the truth was—— She had known. All along. She had known and kept turning away from it. She did not know how long she remained that way. The snow had grown thick. Feln lifted her head from the monument. She stood. Without brushing the mud from her knees, she turned on her heel. She began to run. --- Finding Ellen did not take much time. Near the place where magic had detonated last night——where charred birch trunks were scattered. Ellen sat there, collapsed to the ground. On his knees, his palm pressed against a blackened trunk, he was looking at something. Feln stood before Ellen. Snow fell between them. "[serious]There is something I must tell you," Ellen looked up. His pale blue eyes met Feln's. The thin scar on his left cheek had turned white in the cold air. "[serious]Serika lied to Stark. On the night of the herb festival, she said that you and I——that we were in that kind of relationship. That you were a nuisance to me. It was all a fabrication," Ellen did not move. Feln continued. Her voice sounded as though it belonged to someone else. But she did not stop. "[serious]I truly recognize your magical talent. From the very first day I refused to take you as my apprentice, the precision of your magical control was close to what I took ten years to acquire. That is a fact," Ellen slowly stood up. "[serious]The time I spent alone in this forest. The way you deciphered the cipher in my grimoire without saying anything to me. I——" There, her voice changed slightly. Feln herself noticed it. She was trembling. "[gentle]I am grateful to have met you," Silence. Only snow fell. Ellen's expression slowly crumbled. He bit his lip, trying to hold back. He could not. He cried without suppressing his voice. In the birch forest, in the falling snow, he simply cried. Feln stood there and watched Ellen cry. She said nothing. There were no words to say. She simply remained. --- After some time, Ellen stopped crying. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and took one deep breath. Then he looked at Feln. Directly. Straight on. "[serious]There is something I must tell you, teacher," Feln waited. "[serious]The feeling I have for you is not respect. On the night of the herb festival, when we sat side by side on Star-Viewing Hill——I realized it. Clearly. It is love," The snow grew stronger for just a moment. Feln did not avert her eyes from Ellen's. She felt she must not. "[serious]I'm sorry. To tell you like this," There was a brief silence. During that time, Feln did not think. More precisely——she already knew the answer. "[serious]My heart is turned toward Stark Blitz," She did not soften it. She did not ease it. She thought that was what honesty demanded. Ellen's expression twisted for just a moment. He clenched his back teeth and closed his eyes. Then——slowly, he exhaled. Long and quiet. He nodded slightly. Only white snow continued to fall between them. Feln tried to say something more to Ellen, but could not. She did not have words to add. Yet she felt that something existed in this silence. That what had existed between them had not disappeared in the moment Ellen's love ended. Neither of them spoke it aloud, but in the snow-falling birch forest, they both understood. --- Ellen returned to the inn "Linden's Branch." In the third-floor corridor. He stopped once before Serika Vahn's door. He made a fist and knocked on it. "[cold]Serika. We need to talk," There was no answer. He knocked again. "[cold]If you won't open it, I'll say everything here," The sound of a lock turning. The door opened slightly from inside. Serika's face appeared. Her purple medium-length hair was disheveled. Her right golden eye and left silver eye looked at Ellen. Her lips maintained their usual thin smile. "[sarcastic]……What is it, so early in the morning," "[cold]I know what you told Stark. I know what you told me, too. All of it," Serika's expression stopped for just a moment. But it returned quickly. "[cold]What are you talking about. Isn't that just your misunderstanding," "[cold]It's not. Teacher Feln told me. If you deny it, I'll lay out the evidence," Ellen did not move. He did not take a single step back. Behind the door, Serika's breathing changed. It became slightly faster. "[serious]……It's a misunderstanding. I was only——" "[cold]I didn't come to hear why you lied. I came to tell you that I know everything," Silence. Serika's hand was visible gripping the edge of the door. So tightly it had turned white. "[serious]……" Her lips moved. But no words came out. They moved again. Still nothing. Something spilled from Serika's eyes. Tears. Serika herself seemed surprised, her eyes widening for a moment. But they did not stop. She placed her hand against the wall, her body trembling slightly. Then——she collapsed as if folding in on herself, crouching down, and spoke in a shaking voice. "[crying]Ellen, if you disappear——I have nothing left!" Her voice was breaking. "[crying]In the orphanage, in Vilhelm, you were the only one there for me. The thought of you being taken by Feln, of you disappearing——I was afraid! So——!" Her words cut off. Serika covered her face with both hands and cried silently. The snake tattoo on her neck trembled with her shaking shoulders. Only the two of them existed in the corridor. Ellen stood there for a while. It was not that anger did not exist. Serika had driven a wedge between Stark and Feln, had tried to break his own heart——that anger was clearly present in his chest. But. He did not shout. "[serious]I am not your possession," His voice was quiet. But it was clear. "[serious]No matter what you fear, it does not justify lying. I will not forgive that," He paused for a beat. "[gentle]But——I am your friend," Serika's hands fell from her face. Her tear-wet golden and silver eyes looked up at Ellen. She was trying to understand the meaning. Not forgiven, not rejected——the meaning of those words. Ellen stepped back from the door. Outside the corridor window, snow continued to fall. --- White snow quietly covered the town of Weishardt. Feln stood on the stone pavement behind the inn. Snow accumulated on her shoulders. She did not brush it away. Stark still did not know the truth. Even now that Serika's lie had been exposed, Stark alone——still believed himself to be "a thing of the past," somewhere. That weight existed in Feln's chest. The characters on the stone monument still remained with the cold against her forehead. You are no longer alone. Feln looked at her palm. The magical rune on her right ring finger glowed faintly. The mark inherited from her master. She had to find Stark.