(Paul POV)
Three years have passed since the kidnapping on the Demon continent.
It goes without saying—it left deep scars on most of us: Zenith and I, most of all.
To this day, Ghislaine still blames herself for not being strong enough to stop Kagami. I've told her time and again that we were all deceived, that no one could have seen it coming. But words... words aren't always enough to carry forgiveness. Especially not for someone like Ghislaine.
Once the dust settled—and by that, I mean after I made it very clear to Phillip, with my fists, that I wanted nothing more to do with his damn noble games after being tricked one too many times—we received several bags delivered to us after a day of rest in Ars. They were from Kagami. Magic tools, apparently. Enchanted with Magic Circles to expand the space inside—ideal for carrying the absurd amount of crystals they contained.
Tucked inside one of the bags was a note: "For the trouble you've had from going through the White Fire Coffin."
I almost threw them away on the spot. But I didn't. Not because of receiving some kind of settlement for our troubles. Not because I trusted him. Because we needed the money, now that we're back in Asura, trying to rebuild our lives, I have to think of Zenith. Of our family. Anger and resentment can wait.
The shares were distributed more generously than I would've liked, honestly. Normally, a party splits rewards equally. But this time, everyone gave a portion of their share to me and Zenith. Ghislaine and Ruijerd even tried to provide us with everything from their own share. It took some effort to talk them down to just half. Still, their kindness… it stayed with me.
After that, the party disbanded once more.
Talhand took his share and left for the capital, planning to work as a blacksmith. He's gathered a wealth of knowledge over the years—he'll be fine now that he has the money for it.
Elinalise… well, with her curse finally lifted (or perhaps just suppressed), she disappeared to who knows where. I doubt her lifestyle will change. Like, at all. The only difference now is that she's free of any deadline. I pity the next poor soul who falls into her ravenous grasp.
Ruijerd set out again, heading south of the Central continent in search of any trace of the Superd tribe. After all he's done for us, I hope luck walks with him.
Eris returned to the Boreas household with Ghislaine, resuming her role as a noble lady, though not without resistance. Last I heard, she's still giving my nephew Luke a hard time. The fool's fallen head-over-heels for her, and she keeps giving him her fist to his face instead of her hand.
Roxy stayed with us for a while to help Zenith. Somehow, her voice got through more than anyone else's. But eventually, she intends to head to Ranoa in the Northern Territories, where she is gonna pursue her dream of becoming a teacher at the Sharia Magic Academy.
Vierra and Shierra, on the other hand, didn't head for comfort or coin—they intended to join the residential area in the new Buena Village. It seems that both of them feel bad for all the rescues we couldn't save from Millishion after the incident with the cardinal. And working at the village is sort of a way for them to make up for all the lives we can no longer save.
Speaking of the cardinal, Phillip told us from Kagami that he took his own life days after we vanished. The higher-ups deemed it an act of insanity, but I knew better than to believe that. But for now, it's better to leave that behind.
And my family and I? We've started rebuilding. Right where our old home once stood, at the newly founded Buena Village. It's not easy, but we're making it ours.
***
It didn't take long before I was given a title—Local Knight of Buena Village. A fancy way of saying I'm responsible for keeping the peace, handling monsters, and acting as the village's sword when danger knocks. It also makes me a low-ranking noble, officially. That's as far as I'll go. I've had my fill of noble nonsense. No politics. No scheming. Just a peaceful life—one that assures my family's safety without thinking about whose favor I needed to earn.
With the money from the crystals, I focused on rebuilding. First, a proper home. Then, reinvest in the village's recovery. We hired craftsmen, laid out clean roads, reinforced fences, and put up new homes. Buena Village may be new, but it's got roots now—roots I helped plant.
In return, I started training some of the villagers in swordsmanship. Some of them were eager. Ex-adventurers, retired guards, and even a few greenhorns with enough backbone to pick up a sword and ask for guidance. They weren't soldiers, not yet. But they were learning.
Since I've only recently started to analyze my swordsmanship properly, training started off rocky, and a few actually quit. A few of them I recommended learning a bit of Magic from Roxy, since it would also help her gain a broader perspective on becoming a teacher.
However, those who stayed with me noticed how I was still improving as I taught them. And they looked at me with respect—real respect.
Not because of my title but because of what they'd heard.
People still whisper about it: how I defeated a Water God-ranked swordsman. How I walked away standing. It's exaggerated, sure. But I let the stories spread. Fear has its uses.
Especially now, with monsters returning.
Ever since the Fittoa region began to recover, the borders between territories have become blurred. With the old ecosystem thrown off balance, more and more monsters are crossing into settled lands. That means patrols were needed once more—regular ones.
Today, I brought a small group of trainees—my more promising ones.
We were a little over an hour east of Buena Village when we saw the signs—torn bark, claw marks, and gashes in the earth. Something big had moved through this area recently.
I'd seen this kind of setup before—dozens of times. A too-quiet forest. Scattered droppings. A few snapped branches at odd angles. It meant one thing.
The big one was coming.
I didn't say anything. This wasn't my fight. I was here to watch—step in only if things got bloody beyond repair. That was the deal.
I leaned back against a tree and let my eyes drift over the kids.
Kiril stood near the front, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. Sword drawn, but not tight. There was a rhythm to his breathing, one that was controlled. He was a decent swordsman, clever with Wind magic, but he lacked weight in his stance. Fast, yes. But fast didn't mean lethal if you hesitated.
Just behind him was Mira. Tall for her age, with sharp eyes and short-cropped hair tucked under a bandana. She had the calm of someone who'd already seen too much. Earth magic came naturally to her. She didn't talk much, but when things got dicey, she moved like someone who knew she'd survive.
The others—Leno, Yaloa, Wicks—they were greener. Some of them barely had a month outside Sharia's walls. Good kids, but untested. And tests had a price.
Then I heard it. A rumble—low, steady.
The Terminator Boar exploded through the brush like a boulder launched from a catapult. Massive, fur matted, one tusk cracked from a prior fight. Old wounds along its ribs told me everything—this wasn't its first encounter with adventurers.
Behind it came the real threat.
Assault Dogs. Canine pack hunters. Smart enough to circle, dumb enough to die charging a blade. Six in total. Their paws barely made a sound, but I saw them—ghosting between trees, forming a pincer.
Still, I didn't move.
Kiril reacted first. His blade shimmered as air gathered, then snapped out—a sharp crescent that struck the Boar's shoulder.
It shrieked and stumbled slightly.
'Not bad,' I thought. 'But shallow. He didn't follow through.'
The Boar roared and surged forward, crashing through low-hanging branches with raw strength. Trees bent in its path. Its broken tusk clipped a trunk and tore it clean off.
Another spell from Yaloa—[Flame Slice]—singed its side, while a [Stone Cannon] knocked its head back. The beast squealed in pain, blood now freely leaking from its snout and flank.
Then the dogs attacked.
One lunged at Mira from behind.
She didn't turn. Just stepped sideways and drove her dagger upward, catching the dog under the chin. It twitched once and dropped.
The second one vaulted from the brush straight at Leno. I saw him freeze.
The others noticed too late.
Mira, gods bless her, yanked her dagger free and hurled it without hesitation.
*Thunk*
Direct hit to the temple. The dog collapsed midair.
Still, a third tackled Wicks, drove him to the dirt.
He screamed.
'Shit.'
I moved. No shout. Just speed.
One blink—I was there.
The dog reared back, jaws open. I drove the edge of my palm into the base of its skull. It dropped instantly.
Another dog saw me. Charged. I stepped toward it. My eyes met its yellow ones as I gave it a glare.
It stopped. Turned. And ran back to its mighty leader.
The last dog didn't learn. It leapt. I caught it by the hind leg and swung straight into a tree. Crunch.
Done. Back to the kids.
The Boar was limping now. Blood soaked its right eye. Kiril and Wicks flanked it, drawing its attention while Mira circled wide, eyes sharp and steady.
Kiril moved. One clean strike—[Wind Slice] right through the skull.
It slumped to the dirt with a final grunt.
Silence.
The trees were still again. The dogs were dead or gone.
I didn't speak. Let them breathe. Let them feel it.
They'd done it.
Not cleanly. Not perfectly. But no one was dead. That mattered.
I glanced at the kid who got knocked down. Still shaking, but alive.
'We'll talk later,' I thought. 'For now...'
I stepped back and let them savor the win.
***
By the time we returned to Buena, the sun was starting its slow descent, casting warm golden light over the rooftops and fields. The air was fresh with the scent of tilled earth and firewood. Familiar. Peaceful.
I dismissed the patrol at the edge of the village, gave a few nods of approval, and walked home with a slight ache in my shoulders—not from battle, just age creeping up on me.
Our house stood tall and proud now. A far cry from the simple dwelling we used to have. Built sturdy with Asuran stone and timber, but full of the kind of warmth only a real home could hold.
As I stepped through the gate, the door burst open.
"Papa!" Norn shouted, charging at me with arms wide.
I caught her easily and lifted her up, grunting with mock strain. "Gah! So heavy! You trying to kill me, kid?"
She giggled as I spun her once before setting her down. A moment later, Aisha came walking up more composed—trying to look mature, though her smile gave her away.
"Back from patrol?" she asked, hands on her hips like a tiny Zenith.
"Yep. And you? Keep everything from burning down in my absence?"
She rolled her eyes but nodded. "Nothing exploded. Yet."
Inside, the aroma of stew welcomed me, along with the soft sound of Zenith humming from the kitchen. She turned, wiping her hands on a cloth, and smiled when she saw me. That smile still hit me like the first time, even after everything.
"Welcome home," she said softly.
"Yeah," I said, setting my sword on the rack by the door. "I'm back."
We sat for dinner like any other evening—laughing at Norn's stories, pretending not to notice when Aisha sneakily gave her vegetables to the dog under the table, listening to Zenith gently scold both of them.
Lilia joined us as usual, ever the quiet presence beside Zenith, a part of our odd but whole little family.
These days, though, there was something different about her.
A year ago, she'd still limp from the injury she suffered during the her time at the royal palace before Rudy was born. Back then, the healers in Asura had said it was permanent—that she'd have to live with the pain.
But Zenith refused to accept that. My wife has devoted herself to practicing and improving her Healing Magic. She poured every spare moment, every drop of her mana, into her goal. Not to become a Saint-class healer. But to help ease Lilia's burden.
And somehow, she pulled it off. One night, the pain simply… left. Lilia woke up without it. No stiffness. No limp. She could run again, something she hadn't been able to do since the incident.
Since then, she'd taken up the sword again—not to fight monsters, but to train, to move, to be more than the wounded woman who had stood behind us for so long. Her swings were rusty, and her stamina wasn't what it used to be. But she trained, little by little.
Progress came slow. But it came. And in her quiet way, Lilia never let it stop.
It was only after the dishes were done and the children had gone to bed that Lilia approached me, something in her expression tighter than usual.
"Paul," she said, handing me an envelope. "This arrived while you were out. It bears the Asura Royal Family's seal. Marked urgent."
My stomach tightened.
The seal was unbroken, the wax gleaming crimson under the candlelight.
I broke it without a word.
The letter inside was short. Precise. And heavy.
As I read, my jaw clenched. My fingers curled tightly around the parchment, crinkling the edges. That name—his name—jumped out from the middle of the letter like a blade to the gut.
Kagami.
After three years. Three years of silence. Three years of waiting, wondering, hoping.
He'd finally been sighted again.
"Paul?" Zenith asked, noticing the change in my face. "What's wrong? What is it?"
I slowly folded the letter and exhaled.
"It's about Kagami," I said, voice low. "He's surfaced. Again."
Zenith's expression fell, her hands tightening around her sleeves.
The warmth of the evening evaporated. The peace was shattered.
///