That evening, at the Erendil manor.
"So, you’re going to Eupeheim?"
"That’s the plan. I haven’t decided exactly when yet, but I’d like to go as soon as possible."
"We’ll discuss the details later. Once your schedule is set, I’ll want to speak with Marquis Ignat as well."
Lezard smiled as he spoke, mindful of the invitation they had received. He looked Ren over, noticing something for the first time.
"Oh... you’ve grown so much that our eyes are nearly level now."
"Now that you mention it, you’re right. I used to feel like I was always straining my neck to look up at you."
The change was especially striking compared to when Ren had first arrived in Erendil before starting at the academy. The boy, who possessed the same delicate, androgynous features as his mother, Mireille, had matured significantly.
As Lezard lost himself in paternal pride, Lithia appeared from around a corner in the hallway. She had clearly been searching for Ren, and a lovely smile brightened her face the moment she spotted him—a smile she reserved for him alone.
"Ren! There you are!"
She hurried toward them with light, airy steps.
"Oh, I’m sorry... I didn't realize you were talking with Father."
"No, we just finished," Lezard replied.
"Really? Then Ren, won't you come into town with me? I... I want to buy the next volume of the book I was reading. I finished the last one."
The horizon was still bright with the remnants of the sunset. Since they often returned from the Lion Holy Chancel even later than this, there was no reason to refuse.
"Sure," Ren agreed readily.
"Then can we go right now?"
"We can, but—wait, Lithia!?"
"Hurry, hurry! We have to get there before it gets dark!"
Lithia grabbed Ren’s hand and began leading him toward the exit at a trot.
Weiss approached Lezard, who remained in the hallway watching the two depart with a serene expression.
"You seem to be in a marvelous mood, my Lord," the old knight remarked.
"Yes. I feel quite excellent."
Deciding it would be tactless to pry further, Weiss simply nodded and said no more.
After successfully finding what they needed at the bookstore, the pair strolled through the twilight streets of the cooling town.
Lately, the number of knights patrolling the capital had increased. Between the heightened security following the Roses Kaitas Incident and the surge of Elfen Religion pilgrims visiting since the seal was broken, the city was busier than usual.
Lithia glanced around, ensuring no one was close enough to overhear.
"It feels like a dream—the idea that we actually fought a monster that was a General of the Demon King Army."
"It was neither a dream nor a lie," Ren replied instantly.
Lithia looked up at his profile as they walked side-by-side.
"This is the proof," he added, gesturing to the Mithril Magic Sword at his waist.
The blade was hidden within a custom scabbard suited to its size, but the hilt alone possessed a majesty that far surpassed his old Iron Magic Sword. The new scabbard, crafted by Werlich, swayed rhythmically with Ren’s stride.
Lithia smiled warmly. "The fact that you’ve started using my name without an honorific makes it feel real, too. It tells me it wasn't a dream."
"Please, give me a break. It’s embarrassing when you bring it up like that."
"Is it? I don't think I'll ever forget the way you called out to wake me up. Just my name, no titles."
Ren scratched his cheek and looked away, a familiar gesture to hide his flustered state. For Lithia, the simple joy of walking beside him like this was almost overwhelming; she had to fight to keep her smile from becoming too obvious. Even the silence between them felt perfect, and her steps grew naturally lighter.
They enjoyed the twilight atmosphere of Erendil for a while longer before Ren spoke again.
"We need to get stronger. We have to be ready in case something like that ever happens again."
"I agree. I’m on the verge of becoming a Swordmaster, so I suppose that means you’ll be aiming for Sword Saint?"
Ren shook his head, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I’ve stopped aiming to be a Sword Saint."
Lithia peered into his face, her voice steady but curious. "You haven't given up, have you?"
"Of course not."
"Then does that mean...?"
Ren had never explicitly stated his true ambition before. Until now, he had acted as if his potential had a ceiling, speaking only with reserved hope that he might reach the rank of Sword Saint one day. But that vague, distant admiration for legendary figures was gone.
"I’ve decided to become a Sword King," he declared.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. The White Saintess found herself captivated by the sheer resolve in his eyes. He looked more dignified than she had ever seen him.
"So, I’d be honored if you’d continue to polish your sword alongside mine from now on."
Lithia’s heart swelled. She let his words echo in her mind, savoring them before pressing a hand to her chest. When she finally spoke, her voice was clear and resolute, catching Ren by surprise.
"In that case, I’ll have to aim for Sword King as well."
"L-Lithia? You too!?"
"There’s no need to look so shocked! After all, I..."
She knew the path would be grueling. She wasn't making the claim lightly. More than anything, she wanted to remain the person who stood closest to him, matching him stride for stride as they honed their skills together.
"Because you...?"
Hearing Ren’s question, Lithia gave a playful, radiant laugh. She raised an index finger and pressed it gently against her lips, looking more beautiful and ethereal than ever in the fading light.
"That's a secret for now!"
She wanted to tell him one day, but only when she was ready to share the romantic feelings she carried alongside her ambition.
Autumn was fast approaching, and winter would follow soon after.
By the time Ren’s journey through the Imperial Capital led him to the summit of swordsmanship, there might not be just one new Sword King, but two.
The answer awaited them somewhere further along in their story.