The forest they passed through this time felt different from the one the girl had first explored—not because of the trees, but because now she wasn’t walking alone.
Reinhard’s steady and rhythmic steps in front of her went without a single glance back to check if she was still following, as though entirely certain she would remain right behind him.
“Reinhard,” she called out, panting slightly to keep up with the tall man’s stride, “where are we going?”
“To a safer place,” Reinhard replied briefly, without slowing down.
“A place where people won’t throw stones the moment they see you.”
The girl blinked, then let out a small laugh—a laugh that sounded far lighter than anything fitting for such a serious topic.
“That sounds nice. I like places that don’t throw stones.”
Reinhard glanced back briefly, as if re-evaluating the girl walking behind him—the way she laughed off something that had nearly harmed her moments ago, as though wounds could be forgotten as easily as closing a book.
They walked in silence for a while, only the sound of footsteps and bird songs filling the gaps between them.
The girl looked around with wide, sparkling eyes as before, occasionally stopping to observe a wild flower or passing insect before hurrying to catch up.
“Reinhard,” she called out again, this time in a softer, more hesitant tone, “why did you help me? Everyone else… they were scared. But you weren’t.”
Reinhard didn’t answer right away.
He walked a few more steps before finally speaking, his eyes remaining straight ahead.
“Because fear is no excuse to hurt someone who hasn’t proven dangerous,” he said.
“You didn’t attack anyone. You were just… confused. The villagers’ fear is understandable, but that doesn’t make it right for them to hurt you.”
Those words, spoken as simply and calmly as possible, somehow made something in the girl’s chest feel warm—a warmth she had never felt since waking from those ruins, or perhaps, a warmth she hadn’t felt in a very long time, buried alongside memories that hadn’t returned yet.
“You’re so kind,” she mumbled, more to herself than to Reinhard.
They walked a few more steps in silence before Reinhard spoke again, this time in a more careful tone, like someone choosing their words with precision.
“So you really don’t know where you came from?” he asked.
“Yeah, I have no idea,” the girl replied, unburdened, as if her ignorance wasn’t something to worry about.
“Then what about even the power you used earlier?”
“Oh! Oh! I know that!” the girl answered, her face suddenly lighting up like someone just given the chance to show off something they were proud of.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but—Reinhard, try killing me.”
Reinhard’s steps halted instantly.
“Huh? There’s no way I’m killing you,” he replied, turning quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly—a mix of shock and disbelief at what he had just heard.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine!” the girl retorted cheerfully, as casually as asking someone to open a door, rather than asking for her own life to be taken.
Reinhard stared at her for a long time, searching for signs that this was some unfunny joke—yet all he found was absolute conviction in the girl’s eyes, without a shadow of doubt.
He sighed, clearly deeply reluctant, his jaw tightening at the thought of the consequences if her guess was wrong.
Yet something in her tone, so confident and light, finally melted his hesitation.
With lightning-fast motion—a speed ordinary eyes couldn’t even catch—Reinhard flicked the girl’s head.
Her head vanished instantly, severed from her neck in a split second without blood, without a sound, as though that part had never existed to begin with.
Her body slumped, falling to the damp forest floor.
The girl was dead.
Reinhard stood stiffly, holding his breath, his hand still raised halfway from the motion he had just performed—and for a fraction of a second, deep remorse began to crawl into his chest, cold and heavy like stone.
Yet before that remorse could fully take over, a cheerful voice broke the silence from above.
“Look! I can do that!”
Reinhard looked up.
Sitting casually on a nearby tree branch, legs swinging, was the girl, her face completely intact, smiling broadly as though just showing off a successful magic trick—not someone who had died seconds ago.
“Hehehe, I’m amazing, right?” she said proudly, leaping down from the branch with a light movement as if nothing had ever happened.
Yet Reinhard’s face showed no sign of admiration.
His jaw remained tight, his eyes narrowed sharply, and for the first time since they met, his voice dropped much lower, far more serious than before.
“Listen to me,” he said, stepping forward quickly, kneeling briefly in front of the girl to match her eye level, “never show that power again. Not later, not ever.”
The girl’s smile wavered, replaced by genuine confusion.
“Eh? But I was just showing you, I thought you’d be happy—”
“That’s not the point.” Reinhard cut her off, his tone remaining calm but firm, without a shred of anger—just worry he was working hard to hide behind strictness.
“Power like that—coming back to life flawlessly a second after your head is severed—that isn’t something ordinary humans possess. Nor is it something possessed by most beings I’ve ever met.”
The girl fell silent, looking down slightly, her fingers twisting together in front of her body.
“If other people see that,” Reinhard continued, his voice softening slightly, though his eyes remained serious, “they won’t think you’re amazing. They’ll think you’re dangerous. And people who think someone is dangerous… usually try to get rid of them before asking why.”
Those words hung heavily between them, bringing back the image of the stone flying toward the girl not long before—only this time, the threat was far greater than a bunch of frightened villagers.
“…Alright,” the girl muttered finally, her voice small, losing some of her cheerfulness for the first time since Reinhard had met her.
“I won’t show it again. Promise.”
They continued their journey in silence after that, the forest slowly thinning out, replaced by a wider dirt road starting to bustle with carts and other travelers.
The girl, despite her brief gloom, didn’t take long to start looking around again with sparkling eyes—every new thing was simply too interesting to pass up.
When they finally climbed a small hill, the scenery unfolding below caused the girl to stop completely, her mouth slightly parted.
A giant city stretched out before her—far larger than the small village they left behind, surrounded by high stone walls, towers rising gracefully in the distance, and a bustle that even from this distance could still be heard faintly: the sounds of a market, carriages, hundreds of human lives coexisting in one place.
“We’ve arrived,” Reinhard said, stopping beside her, gazing at the city with an expression too accustomed to be as awed as before.
“Where is this?” the girl asked, still transfixed, her voice small out of wonder.
“This is the capital of the Lugnica Kingdom.”
The girl repeated the word slowly, tasting it on her tongue just as she had tasted Reinhard’s name earlier.
“Lugnica…”
Something strange happened when that word left her mouth—a flash of familiarity striking quickly and vanishing just as fast, like lightning too brief for the eyes to follow.
She blinked, trying to chase that sensation, but as usual, the fog in her head had swallowed it back up first.
“Why?” Reinhard asked, noticing the brief change on her face.
“It’s nothing,” the girl hurriedly shook her head, smiling as usual, hiding that tiny confusion behind cheerfulness that had become her most reliable mask.
“It just… sounds nice to hear. Come on, come on, I want to see closer!”
And before Reinhard could answer, she stepped forward down the hill, heading toward the towering city gate in the distance, her steps light as if unburdened by anything—though Reinhard, walking a few steps behind her, knew full well how many burdens truly awaited this girl behind those city gates.
He quickened his pace, catching up to the girl who was already halfway down the hill, then gently grabbed her shoulder to hold her back for a moment.
“Wait,” he said.
The girl turned around, her head tilting in question.
“For now, let’s go to my residence first,” Reinhard continued, his tone returning to calm and measured.
“You’re not ready to walk alone in a city this crowded—too many eyes, too many things can happen. At my place, at least you’ll be safe for a while.”
The girl blinked, then nodded quickly, trusting him completely without needing further explanation.
“Okay! Reinhard’s residence, Reinhard’s residence,” she murmured cheerfully, repeating the word like a child told they were going somewhere fun.
They resumed walking together, this time with Reinhard a little closer by her side, no longer walking ahead—as though unconsciously, his attitude toward this stranger met just hours ago had shifted from a mere duty of help to something a bit more personal.
The city gate grew closer, towering high with armed guards stationed on both sides, and beyond it, the bustling capital life the girl had never witnessed before awaited her.
They passed the guard post—at first the guards looked hesitant seeing the platinum-haired, blue-eyed girl wearing only a single piece of white cloth for clothes, barefoot, without documents, without anything travelers normally carried—but the moment they realized who walked beside him, that hesitation quickly melted away.
No one dared stop the Sword Saint’s steps, let alone question his guest.
Once through the gate, the world previously seen only from afar welcomed them with full colors and sounds—crowded stone streets, merchants shouting offers, children running between adults’ legs, and food scents mixing from various stalls.
“Woah! So crowded!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes darting in all directions at once, hardly knowing where to look first.
“Stay close to me,” Reinhard said, his voice calm yet carrying a clear undercurrent of vigilance, his eyes occasionally sweeping the crowd to ensure no one lingered on the girl beside him longer than necessary.
The girl complied, drawing closer to Reinhard’s side without complaint, though her eyes remained busy exploring every corner of the street.
Soon, they reached a grand estate standing gracefully in a corner of the city, far from the market bustle yet still lively with its own busyness.
As they stepped inside, dozens of maids lined up neatly to welcome them, bowing in unison with a synchronization clearly trained over years.
Yet before that formal greeting could proceed further, a blunt voice cut through from the stairs.
“Oi, Reinhard, where have you even been?”
A young blonde girl stood on the stairs, arms crossed, staring at Reinhard with an expression far from the formality of the maids around them.
“Felt-sama,” Reinhard greeted, bowing briefly, though his tone remained familiar, far from the stiffness of a subordinate to a superior.
Before Reinhard could speak further, Felt’s eyes had already caught the figure beside him—the platinum-haired girl in a simple white cloth clearly unfit for walking around the capital.
Felt’s expression flipped instantly, eyebrows arching high, the arms previously crossed now pointing accusingly.
“Oi, Reinhard—did you kidnap a kid?!” she shouted, her voice shrill with accusation, echoing through the room until several nearby maids flinched.
“Are you a pedophile or what?!”
The room fell instantly silent.
Several maids glanced at each other, clearly holding back strong reactions, while Reinhard stood stiff for a moment—for the first time since the girl met him, his calm face cracked from pure shock.
“Felt-sama, that’s not—” Reinhard tried to explain, but his voice was beaten to the punch by the girl beside him, who stared at Felt with curiosity instead of offense.
Before Reinhard could finish his sentence, the girl had already stepped forward, standing in front of him with both arms outstretched as if shielding him from an invisible attack.
“D-don’t bully Reinhard!” she shouted, furrowing her brow in a style more cute than intimidating.
“I don’t know what a pedophile is, but clearly he must be a nice pedophile!”
The silence that fell afterward felt different—no longer tension, but collective confusion that nearly made several maids in the corner suppress laughter with great difficulty.
Reinhard covered his face with one hand, letting out a long sigh, a mix of relief and despair.
“That… that is no compliment,” he muttered weakly, trying to explain without really knowing where to start.
Felt herself, who had been pointing accusingly with full spirit, now blinked instead, the furious expression on her face slowly melting into equal confusion.
“Oi, oi, what are you even saying? That means something bad, you know!”
“Eh? Really?” The girl turned her head, her face innocent and full of question marks, completely unaware of the chaos she had just tangled up further instead of helping.
“But… but Reinhard is super nice to me! He even saved me from the people who wanted to throw stones at me!”
Felt’s tension melted bit by bit hearing that, though the suspicious furrow in her brow hadn’t completely vanished.
She looked at the girl longer now—no longer just seeing a suspicious figure beside Reinhard, but starting to notice other details: the shabby simple white cloth, the unnaturally clean bare feet, and her speech so honest it felt impossible to fake.
“…Reinhard,” she said finally, her tone shifting, more serious, “explain. Now.”
“For now, let’s go to the living room,” Reinhard replied, choosing not to debate further in the lobby still filled with maids trying hard to pretend they weren’t listening.
Felt grunted, but didn’t argue, simply turning around and walking ahead toward a door at the end of the hall, striding with a style far from graceful yet carrying the air of someone used to giving orders.
The living room was spacious, adorned with luxurious furnishings clearly indicating the owner’s status, though the girl—sitting on the sofa somewhat awkwardly, as if unaccustomed to such soft seating—seemed more interested in staring at the ceiling carvings than the luxury around her.
Reinhard stood near the fireplace, waiting for Felt to sit before finally speaking, his voice calm and structured, like someone used to reporting complex situations clearly and without exaggeration.
He explained everything—how he found the girl amid the chaos of a small village, surrounded by panicked villagers ready to harm her simply because her face resembled a figure from ancient legend.
How the girl herself remembered nothing of her past—no name, no origin, no how she got there.
Reinhard also mentioned, with a tone deliberately toned down to avoid sounding overly alarming, the power he had witnessed firsthand in the forest—the ability to come back to life instantly despite having her life taken, flawlessly, without pause.
Felt listened in silence, arms crossed, her previously annoyed face slowly turning serious, her eyes occasionally glancing at the girl who was now busy admiring the chandelier above her head, entirely unaware of how heavy the conversation discussing her was.
When Reinhard finally finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment—only the sound of a small fire crackling softly in the fireplace filled the gap.
“…So basically,” Felt said finally, sighing deeply while rubbing her temples, “you brought home a mysterious chick whose face looks like a legendary witch, remembers nothing about herself, and has the power to come back to life after dying?”
“Essentially, yes,” Reinhard answered.
Felt looked at the girl again—longer, deeper—before speaking to the girl herself, no longer addressing Reinhard.
“Oi. You.”
The girl immediately turned her head, her blue eyes sparkling with attention.
“Yes?”
“Your power isn’t just that, right, obviously,” Felt said, narrowing her eyes in evaluation.
“Oh! Oh! I can do this too!” the girl exclaimed, her face lighting up with enthusiasm again, as though she had completely forgotten Reinhard’s warning from hours ago.
She turned to the man, raising her small hand with a light gesture.
Reinhard will be able to float.
Without pause, without light, without any sound—Reinhard’s body lifted slowly from the floor, floating calmly in the air, his boots dangling a few inches above the luxurious living room carpet, his expression stiff because he truly didn’t expect it.
“See? This is great, right?” the girl said cheerfully, clapping for herself as if she had just pulled off a successful magic trick.
Felt and Reinhard could only stare in speechless shock, Felt’s mouth slightly parted, while Reinhard—now floating awkwardly in mid-air with his boots still dangling ungrounded—for the umpteenth time that day lost his words completely.
Realizing that silence wasn’t a good sign, the girl’s face immediately drooped.
“Did I make a mistake again?”
“For now, put this Reinhard down first,” Felt said quickly, her voice rising slightly, trying to keep herself from sounding too panicked in front of a girl who clearly could make anyone float or resurrect the dead with just a casual sentence.
The girl hurriedly flicked her hand, and Reinhard descended smoothly back to the floor, as if gravity had just remembered its job.
He stood upright, adjusting his cloak with a movement slightly too formal to mask his own surprise.
Felt stared intently, brow deeply furrowed.
“Reinhard—you can verify this isn’t magic or spirit arts, right?”
“Yes,” Reinhard replied, his voice returning to calm though a trace of lingering shock remained, “it is neither—because if it were either, it couldn’t be used on me, due to my very existence.”
Felt narrowed her eyes, digesting those words.
“So it’s not magic, not spirit arts… then what is it? How many types of weird powers exist in this world we don’t know about yet?”
No one answered that question, because no one could.
Felt leaned back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling for a moment before straightening up again, clearly deep in thought.
“Okay, listen,” she said finally, pointing at the girl with her finger, “you can turn people rich, make trees bear fruit instantly, come back to life after dying, and now make people float just by talking. All of that… that’s not normal power. Not at all.”
“I know,” the girl nodded innocently, as if it were a fact as simple as the sky’s color.
“But I don’t know why I can. It feels… it feels like I’ve been able to do it for a very long time, like breathing.”
Reinhard and Felt exchanged brief glances—an unspoken, silent conversation filled with the same shared worry, though neither spoke it aloud in front of the girl.
“In that case,” Reinhard said finally, breaking the silence, “for now, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. The important thing is she’s safe here, and no one knows she’s in this residence except us.”
Felt grunted, though didn’t argue.
“Up to you. But if any trouble happens because of her, you’re taking responsibility, Reinhard.”
“Certainly,” Reinhard replied without hesitation.
The girl looked between them alternately, slightly confused yet relieved to hear she was allowed to stay, and a small smile slowly returned to her face.
“Anyway,” Felt continued, crossing her arms again, this time in a slightly lighter tone, “since you don’t have a name, what are we supposed to call you? ‘Oi, you’ sounds weird if we keep using it.”
The girl blinked, tilting her head, pondering the question for the first time since waking up.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, then smiled faintly, “but I’d like it if you gave me a name.”
Felt frowned, thinking about it seriously, clearly not expecting to be handed such a sudden responsibility.
She stared at the girl for a long time—her platinum hair, clear blue eyes, the way she sat awkwardly yet with overflowing curiosity in every corner of the room.
“Hmm…” Felt murmured, tapping her chin with a finger, searching her head for something fitting.
She wasn’t one to think of pretty names, but somehow she felt the name for this girl had to feel right, not just thrown together.
Her eyes glanced briefly out the window, toward the evening sky starting to fill with the first faint stars.
“Merope,” she said finally, trying the name on her tongue before becoming fully certain.
“Her name is Merope.”
The girl—who now officially had the name Merope—blinked, repeating the name softly in her head before speaking it aloud.
“Merope…”
Something quivered in her chest as the name left her own mouth—not the alien echo when she heard the word “Lugnica” earlier, but something warmer, closer, as though the name, despite being freshly given, had somehow been waiting to be called for a long time.
“I like that,” she said finally, a wide smile returning to her face, this time more sincere than before.
“Merope. Thank you, Felt!”slept
Felt just let out a small snort, hiding a trace of awkwardness behind her casual tone.
“Well, whether you like it or not. You’re going to be called that from now on, so you better get used to it.”
Reinhard, who had been listening in silence, watched the girl—Merope—with a hard-to-read gaze, a mix of relief and something deeper that even he didn’t fully understand yet.
Merope’s first night in the capital of Lugnica began with a new name, a roof over her head, and two strangers who, without fully realizing it, had just become the first part of a long tale that would soon drag her much deeper into a world changed over the four hundred years she had slept.
…..
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