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"Are all the daily necessities packed? Especially the camping gear—did we miss anything?"
"Everything's packed."
"I see… What about clothes?"
"Those too."
"Good… Though it's a shame. I recently made you two summer shirts, but the sleeves aren't finished yet. But I suppose the capital will have better styles anyway. You won't miss these two—"
The usually quiet front gates of the Boreas estate, often too imposing for casual visitors, were bustling with activity this morning.
Two luxurious carriages with crystal canopies stood outside, while beastfolk girls hurried back and forth, loading luggage into the second carriage with cheerful grunts.
Allen stood before Hilda.
He bent slightly at the waist, smiling as he watched his mother fuss over him like this—her way of sewing tight stitches before a long journey. Then, he gently interrupted her.
"I do need those two shirts."
Hilda blinked, surprised, then followed Allen's gaze as he casually plucked a bag from a passing beastgirl.
He undid the clasp and showed her.
Right on top were two plain but well-made shirts, pure white with visible stitching allowances—clearly left for adjustments.
Hilda stared at the neatly folded shirts and sighed in amusement.
"How did these get here? I was still working on them last night…"
"I saw them in your room a few days ago, so I asked Lill to fetch them earlier. You were helping Eris with her packing, so I didn't get a chance to tell you."
"The adjustments aren't done yet—"
"Doesn't matter. I like simple designs."
Hilda fell silent for a moment, then looked up at Allen with a conflicted expression—though a faint trace of happiness lingered in her eyes.
"...Alright."
"Hey! You stepped on me!"
"Ah—sorry! Ow! Did you really have to hit me?!"
"You stepped on me! Of course I'm hitting you!" Eris snapped, quickly retracting her fist. She glanced at Allen and Hilda, then subtly shrank back before resuming her 'help' with the luggage.
Not that it was out of kindness.
As the eldest daughter of a noble lineage raised under the elite's protection, Eris had no innate goodwill toward maids.
She was just too excited.
Ever since being told last night that she'd be traveling to the capital with her brother, she hadn't slept a wink.
To Eris, this unprecedented long-distance trip was no different from an adventure.
Nearly a month on the road!
A brother who fell from the sky a year ago! A thrilling journey falling into her lap a year later!
The child was overjoyed.
Rudeus? Not so much.
Not that he was unhappy—just dazed. Even now, he was still adjusting to the fact that his newly settled life was about to change again. Combined with sleep deprivation and an early wake-up call, he was so out of it that he'd accidentally stepped on Eris, who'd been darting around like an overexcited puppy.
Sure, he'd agreed immediately when Allen invited him last night, but it still felt surreal.
Too much had happened since meeting Allen.
From fearing the outside world to making new friends, from confirming his future adventuring party after his teacher's return to being brought to Roa by Allen.
Meeting all sorts of people, doing things he'd never dared imagine in his past life, becoming someone he'd never thought he could be.
Completing the emotional growth that, in the original story, took until his academy days.
All in just two years.
And now? Before he could even settle into this new comfort zone—
Another challenge was already knocking.
The capital?
Seriously? The heart of Asura's power? The equivalent of Tokyo?
Before Allen came along, he'd still been stuck in his 'kicked out of the house' PTSD, obsessively studying Buena's plants and terrain just in case Paul ever disowned him. He hadn't even considered the idea of attending magic university like in the original timeline.
And now? He was heading straight for the capital?
For real?
Plus… something felt missing.
What was it?
Rudeus couldn't put his finger on it. He just stood there, lost in thought.
Sylphie, meanwhile, showed no signs of confusion. She simply stood beside Allen, glancing between him and Hilda, wondering how she could help ease the latter's melancholy.
This timeline's Sylphie had changed far more drastically than Rudeus—especially after solidifying their 'three-person adventuring party.' Every action she took was rooted in the desire to stand firmly beside Allen and her teacher.
But unlike Rudeus, whose changes were spurred by sudden circumstances and Allen's influence—
Was Sylphie's resilience a product of Allen's impact?
No.
Resilience had always been part of her nature. Even in the original story, she'd never lacked it.
Before the Teleportation Incident, her determination hid in the worn magic textbooks on Buena's hills and the clinic where Zenith often volunteered.
Three years.
After the Incident, it hid beneath the capital's political struggles, in tear-soaked sheets after learning of her parents' deaths, in countering assassinations and fleeing for survival, in cautiously playing Ariel's double at the magic university.
Five years.
Her strength existed beyond the frame.
Eight years in total.
She'd always been striving—alone.
This time, though?
Her efforts could be seen.
That was all.
That was Sylphie.
No—
This was the real Sylphie.
"Lady Hilda, I'll help adjust the shirts. I've been secretly learning from you while you worked on them."
Hilda turned, gently patting Sylphie's head.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Fie."
"Mhm!"
Hilda blinked, then glanced to the side.
Isolte stood there, almost as if trying to blend into the background, silently observing their exchange.
"I'll also entrust Allen to you."
Isolte stiffened. She met Hilda's gaze, then after a long pause—shook her head.
"...My apologies, my lady."
Allen, Hilda, and Sylphie all froze.
They knew why Isolte had apologized.
Last night, when Hilda learned Allen was heading to the capital, her reaction had been… intense.
Because she was just an ordinary mother. In her mind, keeping Allen at Boreas as a guest was about protecting him—while returning to the capital meant facing James and walking straight into danger.
It wasn't until Phillip carefully explained everything, with Ghyslaine vouching for Allen's Sword King status and ability to defend himself, that she'd calmed down.
Allen glanced at Isolte, then at Sauros and Phillip standing nearby, but stayed silent.
The four of them lingered in uneasy quiet—
Until an outsider broke it.
"A-Are you sure you don't need a m-maid for… nighttime services?"
The moment those words left her lips, the tension shattered. Allen stared in disbelief at the speaker—
Alifa, the rabbit-eared maid, now on the verge of tears after mustering her courage.
At the same time, he felt two scorching gazes lock onto him from either side.
Isolte to his left, Sylphie to his right—both watching him intently.
Allen: "..."
He swallowed hard, about to refuse—
When a flash of crimson suddenly barged into the scene.
SLAM! Eris charged in like a lioness, joining the fray!
"Luggage's all loaded! Huh? Alifa's coming too?"
Allen's half-open mouth hung wordlessly as he stared at his sister in horror.
Eris was way too enthusiastic.
And his instincts screamed danger.
Sure enough, Eris's eyes darted to Alifa's rabbit ears—and her Sword God-trained brain instantly reached a very instinct-driven conclusion.
"Sure! You can—MMPH?!"
FAST AS LIGHTNING! Allen yanked Eris into the air by her collar, clamping a hand over her mouth!
Through gritted teeth, he hissed:
"NO! But thank you for your… 'hospitality' these past months."
Alifa's nose twitched, her ears drooping as she wiped her eyes. "O-Okay… I'll wait here in Roa for your return, Master Allen."
Allen was stunned.
The two gazes burning into him grew even more intense.
He numbly released Eris, who gasped for air before whirling on him, kicking and flailing in midair like an angry kitten.
"Why not?! You're not taking Ghyslaine or a maid!"
Her attacks hit nothing but air.
Allen sighed, silencing her again before exchanging a look with Ghyslaine.
The swordswoman just shook her head, ruffling Eris's hair.
Ghyslaine wasn't joining them in the capital—dismissed with a single line from Sauros.
On the surface, it was just an order.
Beneath that? Three reasons.
1. Loyalty. Before being a teacher, she was Boreas's retainer—and the family's head of security.
2. Avoiding variables. Sauros knew Phillip had been pursuing Ghyslaine. While he trusted her not to stir trouble in the capital on Phillip's behalf, her loyalty to Allen and Eris meant natural hostility toward James. For Boreas's future, leaving her in Fittoa was the obvious choice.
3. They didn't need her. Logically speaking—despite how reckless it sounded—the group heading to the capital (Allen, Isolte, Sylphie, Rudeus, and Eris) was more than capable.
A Sword King. A Water Saint. Two mages—one a healing specialist, the other an attack-focused Saint-tier. The only 'weak link' was the red-haired girl—
Who was still an Advanced Sword God practitioner with the Silent Swordstyle.
What rank was Paul again?
Back when Dead End was S-rank, Ghyslaine hadn't even been a Sword King yet.
Add a thief, and this would've been the perfect adventuring party—the kind S-rank teams would kill to recruit.
Ghyslaine knew this. She wasn't worried. Allen was reliable, and Isolte—who'd come from the capital—seemed dependable too.
Her tail gave a light flick.
"Take care of Eris."
Allen wordlessly plucked Eris off the ground, set her down, and flicked her forehead.
She hmph'd, shot him a look, then—miraculously—stopped fussing.
—Eris Cat Request Rule #3:
If Allen looks thoughtful, sighs, and shakes his head mid-request—no matter how much you beg, he'll refuse. Stop immediately.
Only then will he smile and praise you.
Sure enough, seeing Eris behave, Allen patted her head.
"Don't worry. I'll look after her."
Eris's lips curled into a smug, oddly proud grin.
With that settled, Allen turned to Ghyslaine and nodded. His gaze swept over Phillip, Sauros, and finally Hilda.
"Then… we'll be off."
Phillip smiled and nodded. Sauros gave a grunt of acknowledgment.
Hilda just watched Allen.
Unconsciously, her hand twitched forward—
As if to reach out. To hold him back.
Then, as if realizing it was improper, she tried to pull away.
But—
Their hands brushed.
Allen gently pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder and patting her back.
Just for a moment.
Then he let go.
The wind blew between them.
Hilda stood frozen before finally smiling—a little helpless, a little happy.
"..."
"Have a safe trip."
Her words scattered in the breeze.
Her worries, fears, and unease melted away like spring snow under the turning carriage wheels.
Even as the carriage grew distant, those inside still leaned out the windows, waving.
Hilda waved back.
Then, softly, she murmured:
"Dear?"
"Hm?" Phillip glanced at her, still watching the departing carriage.
Hilda's eyes stayed fixed ahead.
"How long will Allen be gone?"
Phillip paused, choosing his words carefully as he wrapped an arm around her.
"Three… maybe five years? But it's better than before, isn't it?"
Hilda just stared at the shrinking carriage and nodded.
She said nothing else.
Because during that brief hug—
Allen had whispered something else.
So quiet.
But it weighed heavily on her heart.
"Don't worry, Mom. We'll see each other again soon. At most…"
"Six months."
Even now, with Phillip's estimate not matching Allen's—
She still felt comforted.
The carriage wove through Roa's streets, passing bustling crowds.
It bore no Boreas crest.
But its crystal canopy made its origins obvious.
A year ago, someone had arrived in such a carriage.
Now, someone was leaving in one.
Entering Roa.
Then leaving it.
Eris hung halfway out the window like an excited dog. Isolte chatted amiably with Sylphie.
Rudeus remained lost in thought.
And Allen sat by the window, smiling, fingers tapping against his knee.
Tap. Tap.
Soon, the city faded behind them. The road grew quieter, the scenery wilder.
By the time they reached a fork in the road, there were no travelers in sight—just forests and fields stretching endlessly.
Then—
Allen's fingers stilled.
His hand moved to the sword at his waist as he turned to the window.
A moment later—hoofbeats.
Even inside the carriage, the galloping horse's speed was palpable.
For just an instant—
Horse and carriage passed each other.
The curtain fluttered.
Allen's eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with the rider.
A fleeting glance.
Then the hoofbeats faded.
Allen's grip on his sword tightened. The rider's face—fearful, wary—flashed in his mind.
—The 'guard' from Weting.
After a long moment, he relaxed and chuckled.
He lifted the curtain, watching the rider vanish into the distance before letting it fall.
Silence returned.
By now, everyone in the carriage was staring at him—his unusual quietness unnerving them.
Except Rudeus.
Still dazed, he sat blankly.
Allen glanced at him.
Then, for the first time since leaving the city—
He spoke.
Loud and clear.
"Driver! Take us to Buena Village first!"
"Huh? Ah—yes, Master Allen!"
The shout left the carriage dead silent.
Eris and Isolte blinked in surprise.
Sylphie smiled, glancing between Allen and Rudeus.
And in those reddish-brown eyes—
Rudeus's vacant expression flickered.
As the curtain swayed—
It vanished.
Finally, he realized what had felt missing all morning.
The trip to the capital had been too sudden. Too rushed.
Unlike Roa, which was just half a day from Buena, the capital was months away.
Allen had said his goodbyes properly.
But he hadn't.
Not to Paul. Not to Zenith.
Sure, he could send a letter—but after two years of watching Allen's actions?
He didn't want to.
Rudeus looked up.
Allen looked back, smiling.
And after a beat—
Rudeus smiled too.
This guy…
How does he get it so easily?
Always saying the right things.
Always making you envy him.
Always making you want to follow him.
Damn it.
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