After seeing Britney off, the private room was left with only Caius, Hilda, and a certain little glutton still devouring her dessert.

  Caius took a sip of his drink and asked, "How did you and Britney meet?"

  "It was an accident. I was... traveling with a family elder and stopped by a village. I was playing by the water when I met Britney."

  "She played with me, and when we parted, she even gave me a little dress she had sewn herself. I still keep it in my favorite wardrobe," Hilda said with a smile.

  "So you two are childhood friends," Caius chuckled.

  "What does that mean?" Hilda blinked her large eyes.

  "It means you’ve known each other since you were kids, grew up together, and are very close."

  "We’ve known each other for six years—I suppose that counts," Hilda nodded, her smile warm.

  But then, her expression turned thoughtful. "Caius... how are you so strong?"

  "Hmm? What kind of question is that? Where should I even start?" Caius replied, munching on some fruit.

  "You’re only Gold-tier, and I’m already Platinum Three-Star... yet I’m still no match for you," Hilda murmured, her voice tinged with dejection.

  "Platinum Three-Star? Weren’t you Platinum Two-Star before?" Caius asked.

  "I ranked up two days ago."

  "That’s fast. How old are you, already Platinum Three-Star? I’m just Gold-tier—you’re way ahead of me."

  "But you’re around my age. When I was Platinum Two-Star and could defeat Platinum Six-Star opponents, I was so proud of myself... until..." Hilda picked up a thick-cut fry dipped in ice cream, staring at it absently.

  "Until I met you. That’s when I realized... maybe I’m not really a genius."

  "Then tell me, what does make a true genius?" Caius asked with a grin.

  "A true genius..." Hilda’s eyes glimmered with longing. A faint smile touched her lips as she spoke.

  "A true genius is someone who can stand alone against the world."

  "Someone with extraordinary talent, power beyond what ordinary people can ever reach."

  "Someone who dares to challenge themselves, push their limits, and climb ever higher."

  "Someone who can raise their sword and fight a hundred enemies alone."

  "Someone who can wield their wisdom to achieve their goals with finesse."

  "That’s what a true genius is."

  "Like you."

  "You have immense strength, unmatched combat skills, and incredible intelligence."

  "You can swing your warhammer and topple ferocious Wolf Demons, forge peerless weapons, outmaneuver merchants to claim half a trade fair’s Magitech weapons, and even earn the respect of someone as formidable as Uncle Mel."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As she spoke, her gaze rested on Caius, admiration shining in her eyes.

  "Caius, you are the true genius."

  "But me..." She looked down at her hands, suddenly lost.

  "I just have decent talent and a privileged background. Yet even with all that, I still can’t compare to you—someone who started with nothing."

  "Next to you, I feel... ordinary."

  Silence settled over the room.

  Hilda suddenly worried her words had been too negative. She was about to force a smile and lighten the mood when Caius spoke.

  "Are you really Hilda?"

  She blinked, confused. Caius tilted his head, feigning suspicion.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Because the Hilda I know would never say something so weak," he said with a grin.

  "A swan should act like a swan!"

  "A proud Little Swan should hold her head high!"

  "But I—" Hilda bit her lip.

  Caius raised a hand, cutting her off.

  "What you described as a ‘genius’ is just a label people slap on the successful. It’s not what real genius is."

  "Real genius?"

  "It’s achieving what others can’t—that’s genius!"

  "Talent doesn’t matter!"

  "Even if someone’s talent is as worthless as swamp mud, if they work a thousand times harder than anyone else and reach heights no one else can, that’s genius!"

  "The word ‘genius’ is just a cheap label people use to excuse their own failures. They credit success to ‘natural talent’ or ‘heaven’s unfair favor’—ignoring the blood, sweat, and tears behind it!"

  "So don’t buy into this ‘genius’ nonsense. Sure, some people are born gifted, but if they don’t succeed, they’re just ordinary!"

  "Success is the only thing that defines a person."

  "A successful person could pick their nose and eat it in public, and people would call it ‘refined’!"

  The crass analogy made Hilda burst out laughing.

  This was the first time she’d heard someone call "genius" a derogatory term.

  "Listen, kid. What you should chase isn’t some hollow title." Caius met her eyes squarely.

  In this life, his Giant’s heritage did grant him monstrous talent. But in his past life?

  He’d been a scrawny brat from the slums, missing half an arm—a disabled nobody. What "talent" did he have?

  Yet he’d still become one of the wasteland’s most feared mercenaries.

  He enjoyed his gifts now, but he’d never forgotten the grind it took to earn them.

  Genius?

  A joke.

  "People expect geniuses to succeed—they think it’s ‘natural.’" His voice was low, firm.

  "What you should strive for is the title of [Strongest]!"

  "Only the strong can reach heights beyond imagination."

  "[Legendary] means [Strongest]!"

  "You called me a genius. I reject that."

  "Call me the strongest—because where there’s strong, there’s weak."

  "You’re weak compared to me, but to others? You’re strong."

  "The strong keep climbing, conquering higher peaks, becoming stronger."

  "Crushing so-called ‘geniuses’ underfoot—that’s what it means to be strong!"

  "Genius? So what? Even with the world’s greatest talent, in front of me, you’re still weak. You’d still bow your head!"

  "That’s what you should aim for!"

  "Kid, you’re doubting yourself again."

  His words struck Hilda like a hammerblow, resonating deep in her heart.

  She looked down at her hands.

  They were beautiful—not delicate, but strong and pale, calloused from years of sword training. Even the rough patches carried their own grace.

  What had she been chasing all these years?

  The title of "genius"?

  Everyone called her one, but her Clan elders disagreed. Even her beloved grandfather had said she wasn’t a genius—just slightly more talented than most. "Not suited for the sword."

  She’d refused to accept that. So she’d picked up a blade, determined to prove them wrong.

  She’d thought she was close. She’d defeated so many "geniuses" of her generation—until she met Caius.

  And lost. Completely.

  For the first time, she’d wondered: Was I wrong? Am I really not a genius?

  Maybe I’m just... not cut out for this?

  She hated the thought. She refused to accept it. But the doubt had festered.

  Until now.

  Caius’s words shattered those chains.

  If I’m not a genius... why does it matter?

  She could accept not being one.

  But if she wasn’t a genius—yet still defeated those who were—what did that make her?

  Exactly as Caius said.

  The strongest.

  A warrior scaling impossible heights—not some "genius" propped up by talent alone.

  In that moment, she understood.

  And finally knew what she was truly fighting for.

  Not to prove she was a genius.

  But to prove she could defeat geniuses.

  Her fists clenched. A fire—brighter than ever—ignited in her eyes.

  She looked up at Caius, her smile radiant as the sun.

  The proud Little Swan had returned.

  "You’re right, Caius!"

  "I should aim to be the strongest—not a genius!"

  "Thank you for helping me see that!"

  "Thank you!"

  "Anytime," he smiled.

  Far away, watching through the window, Mack pressed his lips together and nodded, pride glimmering in his eyes.

  "Young miss... your true growth starts now."

  "Hmm..."

  "Tonight, I’ll let the boy off the hook."