Chapter 1 Episode 3: Farewell

  The night had fallen.

  As the sounds of everyone’s peaceful sleep reached her ears, Seneca quietly slipped out of the room.

  Though it wasn’t uncommon for her to drift off even when she had made pns, tonight, for reasons she couldn’t expin, her mind remained wide awake.

  Entering the attic, she stepped out onto the roof as usual, where Lucius was already waiting for her.

  Seneca sat beside him, gazing at the moon in silence.

  That night, the moon was unusually rge, enveloped in a mystical glow that seemed to hold an otherworldly power.

  "Why did you decide to go?"

  The words slipped out effortlessly.

  Even though it felt unchangeable, she knew that, in theory, she could have resisted.

  Yet, Lucius had accepted it so easily, and that was something Seneca couldn’t quite accept.

  "I've always thought about it. I knew something had to change."

  Both Seneca and Lucius kept their gaze on the moon, lost in thought.

  "I was going to gain skills and become an adventurer. I didn’t know exactly what skills they would be, but one thing was certain—I would become an adventurer in this town."

  "I thought the same," Seneca replied softly.

  "But do you know? There are only four silver-ranked adventurers in this town. People who have trained relentlessly and reached that rank here."

  Seneca nodded in understanding.

  "You know that my father and the others were silver-ranked adventurers, don’t you? I don’t know what kind of talent I have, but I want to become even stronger," Lucius confessed.

  "Why?"

  "Because silver rank isn't enough. To protect the ones we care about and survive, we need to be stronger. If we don’t, we’ll never be able to hold our heads high in this world."

  Lucius's jade-green eyes sparkled with determination.

  "I want to surpass my father and the others!"

  Seneca couldn’t find a proper rebuttal, as she harboured the same desire.

  "I need to get stronger. Not necessarily to defeat enemies with incredible magic or to be frighteningly skilled with a sword. I want the kind of strength that will let me survive no matter how powerful the enemies are. To do that, I had to train my skills, no matter what."

  "Back then, you were thinking about that, weren't you?"

  Lucius wanted to become strong enough to protect Seneca, to ensure that no matter what happened, he would always be capable of standing by her side.

  She was already strong. Left to her own devices, she would surely grow even stronger.

  But Lucius wasn’t convinced that she would always be safe.

  What if, when they grew older, a truly dangerous enemy appeared?

  What if Seneca, unable to stand by and watch the weak, threw herself into danger?

  Lucius didn’t want Seneca to change.

  He wanted her to be able to charge in when she wished, but he never wanted her to have to face danger alone.

  That was why he had made up his mind to become strong—to protect her no matter what.

  But Seneca, too, wanted to protect him.

  The boy who had once hesitated with a sword now carried eyes filled with resolve.

  She longed to shield him from the harsh realities of the world, to keep him safe from the dangers he might one day face.

  That was why Seneca had fought to become stronger, too.

  Staring at the moon, which was now partially obscured by clouds, Seneca spoke quietly.

  "Lucius, our parents were our heroes. That will never change, no matter how strong we get."

  "Yeah, that's right. They risked everything to protect us, facing formidable enemies head-on. Being strong alone doesn’t make someone a hero."

  "Lucius, don’t ever forget that. Sometimes, I think that knowing when to run is a form of strength, too."

  Seneca turned to face Lucius.

  Lucius met her gaze, his eyes locking onto hers.

  "Yeah. I understand. When I become a hero, I want to fight alongside you, Seneca."

  "My skill is [Sewing], you know?" she teased.

  "Even so, I’m sure it will be fine. Because you’re Seneca."

  Seneca hated being told "It’ll be fine because it’s you" back at the orphanage, but for some reason, hearing it from Lucius made her happy.

  "Hey, Seneca…"

  Lucius’s face tightened, as though he were about to say something important.

  But just then, the moon, momentarily hidden behind a cloud, burst forth from its veil, glowing with a pale green light.

  An overwhelming surge of magic flooded over them both, and in an instant, the moon returned to its original, serene state.

  "Hey, Lucius. What was that?"

  "It was glowing, right? I’m not imagining things, am I?"

  "Yeah. I saw it too. And the magic, it just… flowed like that. Have you ever heard of something like that happening?"

  "No… never. Do you think someone saw it?"

  "Well, someone in the town might have, but everyone here is asleep, right?"

  "We can't exactly ask the townsfolk about it."

  Seneca felt a nagging curiosity gnawing at her, but with nothing else to go on, she decided to forget about it for now.

  "By the way, Lucius, didn’t you start to say something just now?"

  "Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it."

  "Really? You looked so serious."

  "Yeah. It’s nothing. Really."

  "Hmm. Well, if you say so…"

  Though she was still puzzled, Seneca couldn’t help but smile, feeling a strange happiness she couldn’t quite expin.

  The two of them resumed their quiet vigil, once more watching the moon.

  "Maybe… maybe it wasn’t the right moment," Lucius muttered under his breath, before leaning slightly toward Seneca.

  The moonlight bathed her in its ethereal glow, and for the briefest moment, Lucius found himself blushing at how radiant she appeared.

  ...

  The following day, Lucius left, bidding farewell to everyone as he departed.

  As the carriage carried Lucius away, Seneca found herself shedding tears.

  The tears stopped almost immediately, but the droplets that trailed down her cheeks sparkled like jewels under the sunlight.

  It was a day without a single cloud, a perfect weather for parting.

  Seneca realised, as she watched him go, that she had anticipated this moment would eventually come.

  Given his prodigious swordsmanship, she had long wondered if Lucius might surpass her, regardless of the skills he acquired. She had felt that sense of inevitability.

  But even so, the moment arrived suddenly.

  It was so swift, so devoid of any context, that she had been caught off guard.

  And so, she panicked.

  However, there was no choice but to move forward.

  Believing in that, Seneca slowly steeled herself for what y ahead.

  ...

  A new daily life began without Lucius.

  Since arriving in Baetica, Seneca had spent a great deal of time with him.

  Thus, with his departure, she found herself uncertain of how to pass the time.

  Yesterday, her thoughts had been consumed by Lucius, leaving her no time to practice her skills.

  Emily, a year older than Seneca at the orphanage, possessed the skill of [Sewing], so Seneca decided to borrow some tools from her.

  Emily had recently started an apprenticeship at a tailor's shop.

  In a short while, she pnned to leave the orphanage and begin working there full-time.

  When Seneca asked if she could borrow the tools, Emily welcomed her warmly, knowing Seneca shared a simir skill. She even offered to introduce her to her workpce if Seneca was interested.

  At the orphanage, everyone had been curious about Seneca.

  Despite her delicate appearance, she had publicly decred her intention to become an adventurer, aspiring to wield a sword.

  Her magical power was the greatest in the orphanage, even surpassing the adults, and everyone had expected Seneca to acquire a magic skill.

  Even if Seneca had acquired the [Sewing] skill, one that seemed more suited to a homemaker than an adventurer, everyone knew she would not abandon her dream of becoming an adventurer.

  And so, they worried that she might start taking reckless actions.

  In Emily’s room, Seneca sat down with fabric, a needle, and thread, beginning to sew.

  To her surprise, her hands moved with a fluency she had never experienced before.

  While her work was still rough around the edges, she instinctively knew what to do next, and it felt as though her dexterity had improved.

  Though she could never match Sister Mina, who was highly skilled in sewing, Seneca’s work was impressively good for someone with little experience.

  “This is the power of the skill...” Seneca muttered, in awe of the result.

  It was hard to believe she had done it herself, the stitching so neat she couldn’t help but examine it again and again.

  Afterwards, while chatting with Emily, Seneca learned a few things.

  First, it seemed that Seneca was skilled only in the act of sewing itself.

  While [Sewing] would typically assist with cutting fabric, knitting, or creating patterns, Seneca could only excel at stitching—she still struggled with the other tasks.

  Nevertheless, her progress in sewing was rapid.

  It was said that once someone obtained a skill, their growth accelerated.

  Though being precocious didn’t necessarily mean one was destined for greatness, it was well known that those with talent were often granted the appropriate skills to match their potential.

  As Seneca reflected on her newfound ability, she found herself deep in thought.

  However, one thing remained certain: she had made up her mind to become an adventurer, and so, she decided to put her worries aside and register herself as one.

  She longed to escape into something real, something that could ground her.